


night scenery

by lonelyph



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Female Hange Zoë, Long-Haired Eren Yeager, M/M, Mentioned Carla Yeager, all i do is make the timeline go from two months to a year, eventually : D, introspective armin, levi learns to love and eren is patient with him, not a manga reader so please dont spoil, there isnt much hurt or pain they both just learn to love each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 62,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23154019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyph/pseuds/lonelyph
Summary: In the most unlikely of scenarios do people realize their most unlikely loves.orA series of unlikely events during an expedition separates Eren, Levi, and Armin from the rest of the Corps. They hide out in a cabin together, to tend to the injured Captain.Among pain do people love the strongest.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 236
Kudos: 430





	1. The Falsifiability of Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, stitches, and wet clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone :D,
> 
> this is my first shot at writing a fic about my aot babies, and really its a passion project. i love levi to bits as im sure you understand, really needed an outlet yknow, needed someone to love my man the same way i do :DD
> 
> anyway, this first chapter, despite my trials, tribulations, and uncertainties, is the beginning of their wonderful journey, so i hope you enjoy :)

“Has he stopped bleeding?!”

“I think so! But the cloth- all- everything is wet,” Armin yells. His frustration translates into the strength with which he wrings out the cloth, using his cloak as a cover for the man’s wound before pressing hard on the gash. The pouring rain mixes with the blood pooling in the wagon, washing it into his knees. 

“Why the hell is that piece of shit still chasing us?” Eren rasps, voice hoarse from yelling over the rain. “And where are w-” The wagon hits something and he’s sent flying into the boards at the back, knocking the air out of his chest. He squints through the rain, cold drops seeping passed his lashes and stinging his eyes, and between the blackened edges of his sight he spots Armin's blurry figure, who scrambles to get cover back over the wound. 

“I know where we are, don’t worry about that right now!”

Sitting up, Eren finds the roll of thread stray and partially unraveled into a pool of bloody water. His fingers tremble as he tears the dirty section. Then tears a clean one. Then shuffles to Armin’s side. Then tries to thread the needle.

He fixates himself on each minute task, giving them each and every drop of attention his brain allows in attempt to block out the distraction. 

And it's that scene that steals his attention—it's remembering what happened. It feels almost like a lucid dream, and yet it's a memory. It's a memory, and the vivid incident plays before his eyes on loop. 

He remembers being relieved watching his captain cut himself free from the grasp of a titan’s hand. 

He remembers being reassured at the sight of the ever-capable man in the painfully grim situation. 

But he also remembers seeing blood—blood that didn’t evaporate. 

He remembers seeing his captain hit the ground lifeless, and holding the little body in his titan hand. 

He remembers the terror of realizing Armin was still unconscious, defenseless, in the wagon. 

He remembers using trembling arms to pull his captain out of his own titans’ grasp, and the horror of seeing another titan rush towards them knowing he can no longer produce his own. 

And now he must sew the captain's wound in a moving wagon while being chased by that very monster.

His hands tremble. 

He tries and fails to thread the needle. 

He tries and tries and tries but his hands shake too much, and hot tears when he sees his captain’s blood staining the wagon make his eyes sting too much, and the sight of his captain’s limp body plummeting from a titan’s grasp flashes behind his eyelids over and over and over again. 

“Eren. Eren?! Are you listening?”

Ripped from one nightmare to another, Eren responds with wide, panicked eyes.

“He’s not bleeding anymore, be quick.”

“I’m- I’m trying, I can’t thread the needle—”

“Just give it to me and get the lighter!” 

Doing as he’s told, Eren attempts to light the lighter, shielding it from the rain with his cloak. He presses and presses and presses and every single time, the spark goes out. “Armin it’s not fucking working,” he roars, so loud it rings in his own ears. He wishes his confidence were at the same level. 

“If you don’t calm down I’m seriously going to hit you,” Armin says, grabbing the damn lighter out of Eren's too-tight fist.

“He’s dying and you want me to be calm?” Eren shuffles to the captain’s body and prepares the area.

“Yes! Precisely because he’s dying. Cry all you want later but if you don’t get your shit together right now, he won’t be unconscious in thirty minutes he’ll be dead.” 

The spark finally hits, and Armin starts heating the needle. “He’s not going to die.” Eren tears open the captain’s shirt, using any piece of spare cloth to clean the wounded area as much as possible. He thanks whatever deplorable deity granted the miracle of a clean cut for had it not been, a gash this size would have been a nightmare to treat with their current limitations. 

Armin hands him the needle, then goes to work with a blanket to shelter the captain from the rain. It’s sopping before he even picks it up and leaves Eren less than the already little light he had to work with, but it’s miles ahead of leaving the gash open to water longer and increasing the already high chances of infection. 

And with a wound in sight, a needle in hand, Eren’s hands stop trembling. His mind quiets. 

He pierces the skin for the first stitch.

“That fucking hurts, what the fuck are you doing?!” the captain yells. His voice is more a gasp of air than anything else and he’s kicking his legs out in attempt to flee the cause of pain. Armin steps on them to keep him still. 

“Why the hell are you awake? What the fuck?” Eren completes the first stitch and begins the next. Levi clenches his jaw, nails scratching at the wet boards of the wagon.

“…now… stop it now, what… what’s happening?” Eren completes the second stitch and begins the next.

“You were injured, I’m stitching you up now. There’s a titan chasing us, so we’re in a moving wagon, and Armin is here covering you from the rain,” Eren completes the third stitch and begins the next. Levi wants to swear at him given he’s beyond pissed and there’s no one else to be mad at, but if he were to open his mouth again, nothing but a pathetic squeak of pain would escape his throat. He peeks up to see Eren tying off the third stitch and throws his head back, slamming it into the wood in the process when Eren begins the next. “Only a few more Captain, bear with it.” Eren completes the fourth stitch and begins the next. 

A string of barely audible curses escape the captain’s lips, muttered through clenched teeth. His hands continue to grasp at nothing, desperately searching for something to hold onto. Eren completes the fifth stitch and begins the next. “Fu… fucking hurry up, that hurts… you asshole.”

Eren spares a glance to the captain—he’s deathly pale and his lips are purple, eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed, probably concentrating on anything but the brutal pain at his abdomen. Eren completes the sixth stitch and begins the last. 

Levi digs his nails into his fists, sure he’s brought blood from his palms by now. He bites his lip and breathes, peeking up as Eren ties the final stitch. 

“Armin,” he hears Eren call.

“Yeah, here.” 

Eren uses a hand to lift his waist and he wants to swear at him, but he’s being bandaged so he keeps his mouth shut and endures. 

Not a second after Eren removes his hands, rain belts down on his bare chest and face, each droplets’ sting more ruthless on his cold body than any needle. He feels Eren wrap him with something, then is yanked upwards into Eren’s arms and his vision goes black for a moment. His arms tremble pitifully as he wraps them around Eren, spikes of pain shooting up the tired muscle. His head feels light, yet the deafening rain makes it pound and he can no longer make out coherent shapes, so he closes his eyes to quiet the noise though it only creates a pathway for dizziness to rear its ugly face. He all but collapses at Eren’s chest. 

And then Eren jumps. 

Somewhere amid the worst pain he’s ever tolerated, Levi finds it in himself to regret taking this shit into the survey corps. 

The weight of landing on the horse feels as though his stomach is being ripped at the seams and his ribs fall loose onto his heart and lungs. The constant rocking as the horse runs doesn’t help. 

“Armin!” he hears Eren call for the second time. 

“Ah- ready?” At the sound of metal clanking, Levi forces his eyes open, looking over Eren’s shoulder to a blurry view of the wagon crashing into the titan’s leg. Needles pound against his skill as he works to make sense of what he's seen, and it feels like someone is pushing his eyes into his head. His skull aches, and he can hardly feel his legs or arms, only the faint buzz from where his body meets Eren's an indication that his limbs are still attached. Exhausted, he rests his head on Eren’s shoulder and complies as Eren pushes and pulls, adjusting him so he’s sitting on the horse as well as held, thankfully much less painful a position.

“…so glad you’re small,” he hears Eren mumble. 

“Excuse me?” he says, in the least threatening voice possible, yet Eren stiffens with surprise, and Levi falls unconscious to the rhythmic stomp of a titan barreling its way over the hill.

•••

Eren waits impatiently, hidden within a cluster of trees. His joints ache, feeling as though they’ve hardened in their awkward position of hanging onto the horse, and he can barely feel his limbs. Having eventually wrapped his cloak around the captain, his own body has long frozen. Fat, heavy raindrops sneak past the leafy treetops as if it were their sworn mission to sting his back and head. The water drips into his ears occasionally, so cold it burns. 

Not a trace of warmth can be felt from the captain, his weak body so much colder than Eren’s that it’s freezing even to the touch of his frostbitten hands. Eren clings to him—he pulls him close and holds him tight, for he has not the power to do more. When Levi’s breath continues to be uneven, and his heartbeat feels no stronger than it used to, the feeling of hopelessness threatens to choke Eren to tears once again.

But he doesn’t get to succumb, for he must now have hope that Armin will return. 

Armin, who hid Eren and ran off with the titan hot on his heels, deep into the forest to give them a chance to escape. 

Armin, who swore over a salute that he would return to lead them to shelter. Armin, who fights battles with his intelligence, has run off, nothing but a horse beneath his legs and the wings of freedom upon his back, against a thirteen-meter class titan. 

So he waits impatiently, hidden within a cluster of trees and clutching his dying captain close to his heart, praying for his dear friends’ return. 

“Eren.”

“Armin?!” Eren snaps his head up so quick he feels dizzy, but with eyes refocused he makes out the striking head of blond hair so familiar to him, propped upright and firm on his horse. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Armin calls over the pounding of the rain. “There’s a hunting lodge in these woods.” He spares Eren not a second glance before running off.

Eren stares at his retreating figure, so relieved he forgets to move and he stumbles to hold the captain secure, before taking off in pursuit.

•••

“Head inside, I’ll deal with the horses and be right in.”

Eren slides off the horse and prays it scarcely hurt the captain, who remains unmoving in Eren’s grasp. He shakes away the hair matted against his eyes and spots the entrance. 

Kicking the door open, Eren gauges what he has to work with; a kitchenette, a table, lounge area with a fireplace, and a hallway. He goes for the hallway, sopping boots and clothing leaving the floor filthy with mud and rainwater. He shoulders open the first door he sees, pleased to see a mostly empty room—a few wooden crates and the like are strewn about, but it’s private, protected, and has a window. It’ll do.

Toeing off his boots at the doorway, he heads in and lays the captain ever so gently on the floor. He begins unwrapping layers of wet clothing off the frail body, soaking clothing doing more harm than good the longer it stays on, and as he undresses the captain, the front door slams open.

“Eren?”

“Down the hall,” he calls. 

Armin appears at the door, disheveled and dirty and covered in blood. He tosses his boots off in roughly the same direction of Eren’s own, eyes frantically searching the room, then leaves as abruptly as he arrived, running about the lodge. 

The patting of his feet on the wooden floor is a calming rhythm for Eren. 

Pulling away the blood-soaked, makeshift bandage now, he pauses, taking in the state of the captain’s body. His skin is pale and blue, almost transparent, and from his wound blossoms an angry purple. Eren spots several other bruises and scratches along his chest, and a few more littering his thighs and calves. There’s a particularly nasty cut above his collarbone, another on his jaw, and quite the scrape on a knee. 

He runs a thumb over the crescent shaped cuts on the captains’ palm.

Just as Eren stands to go look for supplies, Armin bursts through the door once again, arms so full he keeps the numerous items upheld with his chin. Regarding the context, it’s almost criminal—Eren’s so stressed he’s bound to act a little nonsensical, he reasons to himself—but he huffs the smallest of laughs.

He runs over to lighten the load. Seems Armin ran about grabbing any and everything he deemed useful, arms full of boxes to cloths to bottles.  


Eren lays a few blankets down, folding them a couple times to create as soft a padding the thin, worn cloth can provide. Grabbing a towel from Armin, he dries the captain well and pats at cuts still bleeding, gradually shifting him over the blankets. The captains’ expression shifts to one of discomfort as he’s being moved, small grunts escaping his lips in pain. His body is still freezing but being out of the rain and wind has since calmed down all the shivering, at least. 

“I found a first aid kit in one of the cupboards,” Armin says, handing over the box. “There’s a disinfectant, but I also found some alcohol. There’s proper stitching equipment in there too, if you want to redo it.” 

“I would like if they were better,” Eren says, eyeing his dodgy stitching job. “But redoing them would hurt, you saw how much pain he was in. I don’t want to do that again.”

“Right…”

“They’ll suffice as they are.” 

Then, Eren goes to work cleaning every open wound he sees, hoping there are none on his back, and imploring for no internal injuries. From what he can see, no bones have been broken or twisted which is a small victory, but he’s unsure of any others and will be until potential symptoms show themselves later, which is a constant cause for concern. 

Armin’s presence helps him maintain composure, handing him things as he needs and taking care of the smaller cuts littering the captain’s legs and arms for him. It’s tedious work, but the two sets of hands work quickly and efficiently together. And as the clouds unleash their anger, punishing the world with thick raindrops and now thunder, Eren places a final bandage. 

With all the blood patched up behind clean, white bandages, Levi looks just fine, like he’s sporting a few healing cuts and the bruised skin of a soldier. A glance and one would never recognize that the man is half dead, having a chat with god in his dreams. 

Eren’s arms ache and his legs feel numb from sitting in soaking pants. 

He finds a fresh towel to dry the captains’ hair. Armin beats a couple of the blankets out in the hall, clearing them of dust before wrapping them around the captain, tucking every corner to trap in all potential heat. Once his hair no longer drips, Eren folds a dry towel and places it under the captain’s head as both a makeshift pillow, and method of soaking water. He lets out a shaky sigh, relieved when the captain feels warmer than his cold hands. 

It’s nothing to be hopeful about—the smallest bit of warmth in his body means nothing in terms of his survival.

But Eren lets himself be relieved.

Then he stands, and his legs tremble on the way up. 

Armin throws a towel at his face. “Strip, I brought in a barrel of water, so I’ll leave all our clothes soaking in that for now,” he says, picking Eren and Levi’s cloaks off the ground, as well as his clothing. 

Eren grabs a towel and follows him out to the living area, wondering how Armin is so calm and capable. His fatigued arms struggle to pry the soaking clothing off his body—they’re heavy and it triggers unpleasant tingles over every inch of skin. He dumps everything in the barrel and wraps up in the towel, dipping his hands into the cold water. 

They’re caked in dried blood. 

He rubs ruthlessly, water splashing over the edges of the barrel, knuckles knocking into the sides and knees aching where they bore into the floorboards. He uses his fingernails to scratch it off and scrubs at it with random clothing. Watching the crimson colour bloom in the water brings the gruesome day flashing before his eyes once again, as though it were the captain’s blood pooling in his titan’s hand.

And the blood doesn’t come off. 

Not all of it. 

Where it does come off it leaves behind a stain, palms tainted with the life of a man whom he believed would never dabble with death. 

He stares at his hands, red from both scratching and blood. 

The very hands that pressed desperately on the wound before he realized he’d need to let go and fight. 

The hands that trembled so much he almost couldn’t pick up the man. 

The hands that frantically shook Armin awake. 

A blanket is lain over Eren’s shoulders. He jerks his head around in surprise and his wide eyes are met with Armin’s back, who takes careful, quiet steps to the fireplace.

There’s a massive pile of wood in the corner of the room—the last person in the lodge must have been stocking, Eren assumes. It’s a little victory, considering although they are surrounded by forest, none of that soaking wood would burn. He starts cleaning out the fireplace, brushing out old dust and soot and placing new wood.

Eren stands. “Armin, go keep an eye on him, I’ll handle all this,” he offers. Armin has never been all too physically attuned. All the grueling work he’s done thus far—on top of the immense mental burdens he, too, has carried—must have taken its toll, Eren thinks.

Armin glances back, broad blue eyes gracing his grubby face. “It’s alright,” he says, shaking his head. “If you won’t rest, I won’t either. Let me help.”

Eren pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, nodding. “Then, I’ll go clean the captain’s room.” Eren pauses at the hallway’s entrance. “I don’t want him to waste energy complaining about the filth when he wakes up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are we excited??? im excited, can u tell im excited? did you like it? i hope you liked it.
> 
> please leave a comment on what you liked or disliked in the comment section, i love knowing your thoughts :D. thank you so much for giving me your time and you can expect a new chapter in about 3 weeks loves.
> 
> and with all this corona social isolation shit goin i hope all yall catching up on all the fics you got open in a million tabs cause lord knows i gotta get on my shit.
> 
> stay safe loves --leaf


	2. Hunters and Survivors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questionable decisions, blurring boundaries, and sleep deprivation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys, my babies, hello. : )
> 
> its literally 4am and i have exams next week but i was playing minecraft with my friend and i got the sudden urge to post. i have the first eight or so chapters written already and its quarantine and ik yall are waiting so i was like fuck it i really wanna post and so here we are.
> 
> anyway, how are you? everybody healthy? i hope youre all staying safe and eating well. i found a nice song that i like to write to, its called to each his own, by talos. give it a listen while you read maybe, its really nice.
> 
> enjoy the chapter : D.

“You know he’s not going to wake up better overnight, right?”  


“I know, I just… I’m worried.”  


Armin moves into the room to sit beside the captain, mirroring Eren’s stance. “Staring holes into his head isn’t going to make him any better either,” he says, though his words seem to go right over Eren’s head as he continues to gawk. Armin takes a deep breath, preparing to counsel the panic he knows is coming. “Why don’t you go to sleep?” he asks, prodding Eren’s knee with a poke. “The rest of our clothes are finally dry, and there’s more blankets-”  


“Don’t you think he’s struggling too much to breathe?”  


And Armin can’t find it in him not to sigh. “Eren, seriously, sleep.”  


“No, look-” Eren says, pulling Armin’s hand to the captain’s forehead. “He’s been getting warmer and warmer all night, and he’s been restless, and his hands and feet are freezing.”  


And he is hot, but fevers are normal after injury. “It’s part of healing.”  


“It is, I know, but it’s just,” he starts, running a hand through his hair. “It seems really bad.”  


The tiniest pang of worry pricks Armin’s chest. “Really bad?”  


“Really bad. He’s way too hot, and I’m almost sure it’s because his cut’s infected.” His voice cracks on the last few syllables. “If not already then it will be soon.”  


“What do we do then?”  


“You ask that like there’s a solution. If he gets an infection, it’s over. I’ve looked in every inch of this cabin and there’s isn’t a single thing that can help, which is so backwards because it’s a hunting cabin-”  


“Nothing in those cabinets would help?”  


“Maybe, but not as they are, there’s other ingredients you’d need… unless…”  


“So, unless we do something, he’s-”  


“He’s not going to die, I have to go,” Eren says, rushing up to the door.  


Armin scrambles to his feet. “Wait, wait, wait,” he calls, grabbing his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?"  


“I can make something.”  


“What?”  


“I can make something, or- or find something, what I’m thinking of isn’t… great, he’ll have to do most of the work, but it’ll help with infections,” he explains hurriedly. “I just need ingredients.”  


Armin reels for a moment, amazed by what he’s heard. “And you want to go out, there, alone, to do that?” Armin yells more than he asks.  


“Yes!” Eren raises his voice in kind, baffled by Armin’s resistance.  


“No, absolutely not, you can’t go.” Armin pulls him into the room with all his strength, then slams the door, blocking it with his small body.  


“Move,” Eren demands. “I have to, I can make something that will help. I don’t understand why you’re stopping me.”  


“You don’t understand? Are you kidding me? You’ll die, Eren, that’s why I’m stopping you.”  


“If we don’t do something, he’s going to die,” Eren yells, pointing back at the small body behind him.  


“I understand things look bad for him right now, but we both know if I let you go, and you don’t come back, he’ll take me to the grave with him,” Armin says, more desperate with each word. Because he knows Eren, and he knows he’ll do any and every irrational thing in the book to save someone. “And then you’ll both be dead. So what the hell do we do then, huh? No captain, no Eren, it’s not like I’ll make it back home on my own and then we’re all gone-”  


“So what? You want to leave him there to die? We might as well just ditch him now and go home then, what are we waiting for?!”  


“Of course I don’t want to leave him but what choice do we have? We can’t lose you we can’t even take that chance-”  


Then, Eren pauses, breath stilling. When his shoulders finally sink, his voice is above a mere whisper. “We can’t take a chance on losing me, so we can’t take a chance on saving him,” he says, so composed it's almost eerie—though perhaps it wasn’t composure, so much as it was disappointment and disbelief.  


“Eren…” Armin sighs, and all the anger simmers out of his body. His cheeks go red with shame. “You have to understand, I want to save him too, he deserves to live more than any of us, I get it, I swear to you I get it, but we need you, Eren. Everyone needs you,” he persists. “If the Captain was awake you know he’d stop you too, so please, just stay. He’ll get better.”  


“You’re not an idiot, Armin, you know he won’t get better.”  


He leans back against the door, defeated. “You can’t go,” he whispers. There’s nothing more he wants to do than ensure the captain lives, but he has no choice.  


“I have two things to say to you, and after that I’m leaving, whether you agree or not.”  


“Eren-”  


“No. Listen,” he demands. “First of all, he’s not going to wake up for a couple days, so frankly I don’t care about his opinions, because he can’t give orders from his nightmares. And second,” he starts, nails digging into palms. “Do you think I was okay with it?”  


“What-”  


“Do you think it felt good to hide in the middle of the forest, being some useless coward who couldn't even face a titan as a titan myself?! Trusting you to live after running off with a titan tailing you? Do you think I was okay with that?”  


“I had to do that, and I had a plan. Besides, if any of us dies it’s better it’s me-”  


“I thought we were over this you can't say bullshit like that to me-”  


“Stop cutting me off-”  


“No! You don’t get to decide who lives and dies here, alright? And you don’t get to say that like you’re useless because you’re the only reason any of us are alive right now.”  


“Eren…”  


At the sound of his name from such a quiet voice, he takes a deep breath, willing his energy down. “Listen to me,” he says finally, voice calm, eyes shining in understanding and sympathy. “You asked me to trust you, that you’d come back and bring us here, and I did, right?”  


Armin nods, sheepish.  


“And you came back, right?”  


He nods again.  


“You did, so I’m asking you to trust me this time. I swear to you, I will come back.”  


“And you’re going to go no matter what I say?” he asks quietly, shoulders raised to his ears.  


Eren’s shoulders loosen, tight fists unfurl, and lips curl upwards sympathetically. “Yeah.”  


“And if I say anything you’ll wait ‘till I pass out and sneak out anyway?”  


“Yeah.”  


Armin sighs in defeat, slouching over as he steps away from the door. “Will you at least wait ‘till sundown? You need rest anyway.”  


“Alright.”  


•••  


Truth be told, Eren did try to sleep. He really did. And like most missions he goes on, it didn’t go well. In attempt to ease the nerves keeping him awake, he tried to set up camp beside the captain to both sleep and keep an eye on the man. And he did fall asleep that time, but as he shuffled between dreams and reality, sunlight peeping through the shutters blinded him to alertness, so he wouldn’t consider that much of a success.  


Armin walks in for what he counts as the fifth time that afternoon, but this time, a pleasant scent follows him into the room. Eren barely has time to register the thought that after staying awake for nearly two days straight, Armin has the cognitive ability to cook without burning the place down, before he lunges for the bowl of soup offered to him. The burning temperature of the liquid does nothing to deter him from downing it in two gulps, and Armin has the cheek to laugh above him.  


"You shouldn’t have it that fast,” he says with a giggle. “You haven’t eaten in ages, you might throw it up.”  


“Incorrect,” Eren responds, having caught his breath after nearly choking. “We had those ration bars in the middle of the night, it’s fine,” he claims, fully assured of himself as he hands back the bowl.  


Armin smiles, shaking his head as he leaves the room, though he’s not sure what else he should have expected from an interaction between two delirious, hungry, and emotionally unstable people.  


And in the time he has before the sun dips below the horizon, Eren busies himself with the captain. The towel on his forehead has gone warm, and he visually relaxes when Eren changes it out for a cold one.  


And Eren wants to smile because it’s a little victory, but the hopelessness he feels is too overwhelming, and the fear he holds that infection will settle in before he can return lingers in the back of his mind. And, because he's a natural at making things worse for his emotional state, he decides to change the captain's bandage himself before he goes.  


He carefully pulls, section by section, the blankets the captain has trapped between his limbs and body and floor. Upon revealing the captain’s stomach, Eren’s heart drops into his own, and suddenly he needs a word beyond hopeless to describe his dread, for the skin has swollen so much, and redness has spread so much he can see the damage without even unwrapping the bandage. As if not looking at the cut itself will make it less awful than he assumes, Eren hesitates to even change it anymore. But with shaking fingers he reaches, with unassured certainty he touches, but the captain shifts to his other side, and Eren drops his head into his hands.  


The likelihood the captain will survive without any medicine has plummeted to almost nothing, and whatever natural remedy Eren can come up with will be about as effective as a single grain of salt in a bucket of water.  


He rubs harshly at his eyes, wondering why they’re burning.  


This stinging feeling bubbles up inside him.  


It's this feeling that’s hopelessness and frustration and anger and shame all crushed into one disgusting, ugly mix of an unnamed emotion and it pushes him to tears at times he least wishes he were crying.  


He presses the pads of his thumbs over his eyelids to physically push away the repulsive emotion and he realizes it’s entirely ineffective when he can taste salt on his lips, and his hands fall back to the ground.  


He knows he can’t be a mess right now. He knows he needs to be focused and calm so he can transform and be in control. He knows he needs to have hope and be optimistic if he wants any chance of the captain living. He knows that and yet, staring at the captains’ back, shapes obscured to a blur, all he sees are blues and reds and purples where pale skin, healthy and scarred alike, should lie, and the shapes get blurrier.  


And it’s hilarious. It’s fucking hysterical that someone as strong as the man laying before him has been reduced to a colourful, crippling mess. A man who’s survived the impossible, who can do the impossible, defeated by the slice of his own blade in the line of battle. That someone of his stature, who’s done nothing wrong but face the wicked burden of surviving, could be killed in such a pathetically cruel way.  


And it’s now that he wishes he could have crushed that titan to bits and pieces, murdering it limb by limb, ripping out each and every muscle and tendon, before tearing the head and neck to unrecognizable shreds. If only, he thinks, if only he was given the chance in slew of whatever merciful death it had.  


He rubs at his eyes fruitlessly, reaching for the scissors and bandages in the medical kit. What he picks up is neither of those things and he has no idea what lays within the box he holds, but he launches it out the door anyway and it crashes against the wall outside, bits and pieces scattering across the hallway.  


Pushing the kit to the side, he reaches for the captain instead, rationalizing that aggression won’t get the best of him if he’s handling a real person, and it seems so when like magic does his touch change from the death grip he had to the feather-like hold he has as he turns the captain onto his back again, lips trembling as he untangles blankets from the captain’s legs.  


Shivers are sent up his arms when his cold hands meet the captain’s burning skin. He presses his hands over the skin at his neck down to his chest, abating the heat bit by bit, although the aid lasts for moments only before the cool imprints flare with pink once again. He places the fallen towel back on the captains’ forehead, thumbing his sunken cheeks. He stares at his dark eyelids, red ears, and parched lips as he does so, lost in the sickly colours painting the once clear canvas.  


“Why does it look so bad?”  


Eren all but jumps out of his skin at the voice, hands snapping back to his sides. “When did you get here?” he says breathlessly, gaping at Armin.  


“I ran in when I heard something crash,” he explains. “I was going to ask what happened, but…”  


Eren rubs at his eyes again. He’s stopped crying—more owing to his severe lack of hydration than succeeding at stopping the tears—but behind his eyes persists the burning sensation still, and he can feel a headache coming on. “It looks so bad because it’s getting infected, and it’s not getting better any time soon.”  


•••  


After Eren has gone, Armin collapses to the ground, staring at the newly wrapped bandage from where he sits, how it barely conceals the reality of the wound.  


He wonders if the captain is having a nightmare.  


Wincing, he peels the sock off his left foot with great difficulty. The ankle is swollen, staring back at him with an angry purple, the colour berating him for walking on it untended all this time. He shuffles toward the captain, all but laying on the ground to reach for another roll of bandaging, freezing momentarily when the captain shuffles in his sleep. His fingers shake as he thumbs a roll close enough to grab and uses all his strength to sit up again, vision going black at the edges when he straightens.  


He supposes it would have been beneficial to have some soup himself earlier, because he’s not sure he’ll make it back to the kitchenette anymore. He wraps his ankle messily, hoping only for some sense of stability and an anchor to heal without much thought for quality. Lightheaded and trembling, he shuffles his way out of the room right on his ass, damn standing. At this stage he supposes he’ll pass out before he even gets on his two feet.  


And once he feels the warmth emanating from the fireplace, he gives up on the idea of food and all but dissolves into the warm floorboards, exhaustion getting the best of him.  


•••  


In the time Eren is gone, Armin feeds himself and tends to the captain and cabin alike.  


The captain had awoken twice, in a delirious state both times at that. For the first, Armin had been in his own practically comatose state, awoken by a smacking sound from the captain’s room. Momentarily forgetting his own pain, he runs to the room to find the captain awake, having thrown the towel on his forehead across the room, leaving a wet splatter on a wall.  


Seems the captain and Eren have a similar tendency to throw things in random fits of frustration.  


Armin approaches cautiously in attempt to not further disorient the captain, who’s looking around aimlessly with eyes unfocused, seemingly unaware of his location.  


“What…?” he mumbles, eyes finally locking on Armin.  


Surprised and caught off guard by the uncharacteristic tone of voice, he freezes. “Ah- you,” he starts, now realizing he needs to get it together too. “We’re in a cabin, you were hurt,” he says, choking on his words.  


The captain turns away from him, coughing. “I can see that.”  


At least he hasn’t lost his attitude, Armin thinks. Possibly the only up-side to the grim situation. But then he realizes the one most gravely injured is the one who seems the most okay, and he feels a little bit pathetic.  


The captain shifts and coughs again, eyes lost and body quivering when he stops, and it sends Armin running through the dark hallways to bring him water.  


The second time was the next afternoon, Armin having just come back from feeding the horses.  


The sound of coughing has his feet moving before he registers the sound, and he pauses at the doorway.  


The captain is staring at his palm, arm trembling in the sunlight. “Who’s there?”  


“It’s Armin, Sir,” he says, taking that as permission to enter the room.  


“Where…”  


And there’s an awkward pause, until Armin realizes the captain isn’t about to finish every sentence perfectly, and he chokes again. “It’s- you- we’re in a cabin, you were hurt,” he stammers.  


“I… did we… did we not have this conversation already?” His hand drops over his eyes. “And would you do something about the damn window?”  


It’s then Armin realizes he wasn’t staring at his palm, but blocking the sunlight, and he stumbles to flip the shutters closed. He stands, tongue-tied and clumsy, unsure of what to do next. Through all his training he’s been drilled to listen to orders and do nothing but what has been ordered—in the immediate presence of an authority figure at least, if not at all times. So now, standing before the man he takes orders from, he has no idea whether he should be taking initiative to do what he deems would help the captain, or be a sitting duck waiting for when he’s called for help.  


And it’s now he wishes he was the one with a father who taught him all kinds of things about medicine so he could be out collecting special plants, and Eren and his uninhibited impulsivity could stay here and do whatever he wants without gnawing uncertainties controlling his actions.  


The captain shuffles about, groaning at the pain butterflying from every joint he moves. He brushes away the hair matted against his forehead. “Why is it so hot in here?” he mumbles, amongst other ramblings.  


“It’s not that hot, Sir, it’s just- well last night- uh, you have a fever, and last night you wouldn’t take the blankets off, or leave the cold towel on your head, so…”  


“Well said. About as graceful as a carriage crashing into a pub.” And then shifts about again, trying to kick off the blankets while grumbling about having to deal with a fever, and that he can’t move the blankets because simply thinking about moving his limbs make them hurt.  


A tad offended, and considerably nervous, Armin cautiously steps in to help him.  


And after the captain’s succumbed to the unconscious again—in the most uncomfortable of positions, in Armin’s humble, unimportant opinion—Armin spends the rest of the day cleaning, vigorously cleaning, for the longer the day goes on the longer Eren has not yet returned, the longer Armin has to go wondering if he’s gotten lost, died of dehydration like the idiot he is, or gotten killed. 

And it’s after that thought pops up does Armin have to manage his guilt for not believing in the promise Eren left him with, and then regret that guilt for he’s reminded himself that his concerns are fully justified. And that’s not to mention they’ve been lifelong friends and one would be hard-pressed to find Armin emotionally ready for his friend to die. He’s dealt with that feeling once, and must he feel the anguish of losing his friend a second time, he highly doubts that time will end with Eren appearing alive at the most chaotic and confusing of times again.  


So he cleans, vigorously cleans, not because he wants to, but because he needs it—he needs the distraction.  


He cleans the captain’s room again too, as quietly as one can hope to be when standing on chairs and stacking wooden crates, redoing all the things Eren missed, the things the captain would normally berate him for never learning.  


Once the sun sets, he half expects Eren to show up sometime in the night, thinking he’d be travelling at night to be safe, that he’d be done in the day he’s been gone and be back tonight. So he stays up, busying himself by tending to the captain, and reading one of the several books he found sitting in the bottom of a crate.  


It’s about growing trees. The first chapter details how to tend to baby trees so they don’t die through the winter. After he learns that branches may have failed to survive the winter and thus should be cut to prevent obscuring others, the captain stirs and the towel slips off. For the eleventh time.  


And Armin replaces the newly cooled towel. For the eleventh time.  


He thinks it more polite to not think a thing at all, but he does think a thing, and he thinks the captain moves about in his sleep several counts more often than anyone would have the confidence to assume. It would be reasonable to chalk up part of his constant shifting to being in pain and discomfort—he has been sleeping on hardwood for several days now, it must be getting to his spine. That’s only some, though. And Armin’s not sure what to do with this newfound information of the captain’s liveliness in sleep. He’s noticed, too, that the captain wants to curl into a ball, and when he realizes it hurts to curl up, he stays on his side and his arms seem to wish to hold onto something—not really that he grasps at the floorboards, more that they lie as if they were grasping something. And Armin wonders if he needs to hold onto a pillow when he sleeps.  


Knowing these things, thinking these things, Armin is no longer sure how to act with the captain, so for the moment, he’s shamefully glad there’s a high chance the captain won’t remember their brief interactions, that he won’t remember being so exposed around Armin, for not only does he know that he doesn’t know how to act about it, he knows with certainty that the captain will not appreciate having his personal habits and vulnerabilities on display to someone he would hardly consider a stranger. So he wants to pretend he knows nothing, because as much apprehension as he has to blurring the lines between captain and soldier, he wouldn’t be contesting to its occurrence, but he has much respect for the captain. And, for a captain to be hurt, to require care from his subordinates, such humiliation, such shame befalling the man, Armin could never imagine. So he stammers, is clumsy, and doesn’t know what to say, as he helps in the quietest, simplest of ways, letting the captain make the decision to handle something himself or ask for help, because Armin can’t do much, but he can let the captain feel like a captain, the person he knows how to be.  


And when he goes to replace the towel for the twelfth time, the captain seems to be awake—or at least a quarter of the way conscious—as he flings it towards the wall again, rolling over the other way.  


Armin dares to giggle at the action. If only he had time to cherish the feeling, because his fingers brush bare skin when he helps the struggling captain pull blankets on, and he’s pulling blankets over a burning body, shivering as though he were still under the rain. Armin starts to believe he has to ready himself to handle Eren in a few days, when his most admirable captain won’t open his eyes anymore.  


•••  


Eren’s been awake for nearly four days straight now, if he doesn’t count the maybe-nap he had prior to departure. His legs and arms cooperate only because all his cognitive power has been shifted from all other aspects of living to the physical function of his limbs. Proper vision and good balance and auditory alertness and the ability to think and feel pain and hunger and thirst? Damn them all. He needs to get these wet, droopy bits of nature back to the cabin to make some concoction with medicinal properties.  


It’s his one and only goal.  


So he barely processes that he spots the cabin, and he slips out of consciousness for the period it takes to actually get there, seeing as he doesn’t recall opening the door now that he’s crushing up the various quantities of the various things he needs. And the only reason he registers Armin’s around is because he trips on a stray leg on his way to the captain’s room.  


The last he registers from the night is clipping the new bandage closed, packing the little bottle of the remedy in the first aid kid, and being subsequently told to stay. So he collapses there, fatigued mind completely unaware of the lines he’s crossing and far too gone to consider future consequences, clutching the small, freezing body to his own.  


•••  


“What in the name of hell are you doing?”  


“Shut up, would you?” Eren mumbles, shifting his arms to lock around the body pressed into his chest. “I’m tired.”  


“Excuse me?”  


“What-” he starts, barely conscious. All he knows is the pattering of rain and exhaustion lulling him back to sleep. But he’s been pinched. Really hard. And he finally brings himself to haul his eyelids apart, and then he wishes, with absolute certainty, that he could go back a couple seconds and pretend he never woke up. “Oh fu—” And he slaps his mouth shut, finally alert and deciding it would be in bad taste to swear in front of his captain. “Uh, no, I didn’t mean, oh,” he stammers, retracting his arms and sitting up. “I’m so sorry, I’m just—”  


“You’re tired, whatever, I’ve said worse. Why the hell are you here at all?”  


“Uhm…” Eren mumbles, racking his brain for any viable memory from the previous night. “I…”  


“Any day now.”  


Lying, weak and thin and worn-out on the floor, the captain’s glare is no less intimidating than when he has a blade to a throat, and Eren chokes up yet again as he sits, dumbfounded, staring at the floor in amazement of his own lack of memory. He reels in surprise when the captain grabs his hand, tossing it away so he can free his blanket, and— “Oh! I was changing your bandage last night, and…”  


“At this rate I’ll be healed before you finish this explanation.”  


Eren unsuccessfully tries not to feel embarrassed as he attempts to put bits and pieces of what he knows together, and it’s when he does remember that there’s an audible grumble in the room, and the captain lets out what he can only call a disappointed sigh, trembling hand brushing hair off his forehead.  


And for the second time, Eren slaps a hand over his mouth in a severely disastrous attempt to muffle his laughter. The captain winces through tossing a towel at Eren’s head who takes the weak hit full force on his chest, head in his hands as he very disrespectfully and overtly laughs at the ridiculous situation. That hit is the least he deserves for his behaviour.  


“So are you going to keep laughing at the half dead or are you going to feed me?”  


“I’m so sorry,” Eren unconvincingly claims, giggling through every word. And he really wants to stop laughing, but it’s not happening. All his filters are off, fully owed to his horrendous lack of sleep, and all he can do is breathe through the laughs as he makes his way to the door. “Oh, and,” he starts, eyes shining with tears of laughter as he leans on the doorway. “Last night, I was going to leave after changing your bandage, but you had asked me to stay. You were freezing, so…” he trails off, smile still plastered on his face.  


The captain looks ready to facepalm, if only he had the energy for it. “Just… just go find me something to eat.”  


“Yes, Captain.” And he walks off, worrying the captain may notice something off about his bandaging and grateful his fever’s gone, as he wonders if there’s a single thing he can make that won’t taste like dirty water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooooo, how we doin? 
> 
> do we like it ? what did you like and dislike ? let me know, i love reading comments. what do you think will happen next ? how long do you think itll take for shit to actually happen ? i really, sincerely hope youre all enjoying reading this, as im having a swell time writing it myself, and i cant express how amazing it is to me that you all like reading whats essentially my own thoughts and interpretation of these characters. thank you so very much.
> 
> again, my loves, please, please stay safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. ill see you all once again in about three weeks time (maybe less lmao) with a new chapter.
> 
> eat good food --leaf


	3. Life and Death are Coloured the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inappropriate remarks, strange baths, and pillows and blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my babies : DDD hello, 
> 
> i really be telling myself ill upload every three weeks and then i get excited and post early, so here we are. 
> 
> i hope all of you are safe and doing well. i just finished all my exams so im having a hell of a time. any armys? whos watching bangbangcon its so cute. 
> 
> i had this chapter ready a while ago so ive edited it multiple times and i really think its at the point i want it. i always have trouble getting in levi's head and writing him in a very canon way that works with the content of my story specifically, and i think his lines and thoughts have come out quite well.
> 
> i really hope you enjoy : D.

“Should we wake him?”  


“Yes,” Eren replies, walking into the room with confident steps. “He hasn’t eaten in nearly four days, if he’s going to die it’s not allowed to be from hunger.”  


“Hey,” Armin starts, placing the bowl on the floor. “I can do this, you should be sleeping.”  


“And you should be not walking, apparently,” Eren says, shooting him a look.  


“I thought you said you wouldn’t be mad about that,” Armin all but pouts.  


“I lied, now go back and eat, okay?”  


“Do I have to?”  


“Yes.” Eren rests a hand on the captain’s forehead, confirming his fever has broken. “And anyway, I did something really uh, really stupid… earlier, and I should apologize, so…”  


Of course he did, Armin thinks, sighing as he heads to the door. “Fine, but if you need anything, you have to call me, I can walk just fine.”  


And Eren knows he can’t walk ‘just fine’, but he agrees anyway so the conversation will end. And amidst the silence, he takes a moment to appreciate the movement of the captain’s chest rising and falling steadily.  


At least he has that.  


He has no confirmation that the captain will get better, that there’s nothing else wrong internally, that he won’t take a turn for the worse later. He has no certainties other than that he’s alive and breathing—for now at least—and he can be grateful for that.  


Strands of black hair are matted here and there and Eren takes the liberty to brush them back, doing his best to be gentle and non-intrusive. It’s only when the captain begins to shift awake does Eren realize he’s been brushing through his hair for far too long, and he withdraws his hand only moments before the captain blinks himself awake.  


“Did you bring food?”  


Food being the captain’s rising thought makes Eren smile. “I did, so you’re going to have to sit up now.”  


The captain groans, pressing his thumb and forefinger into the inner corners of his eyes. 

“It’ll be an easier feat growing Erwin’s arm back than it’ll be sitting me up right now.”  


Despite the captain’s distaste, they try several things anyway, from trying to shift him near a wall to leaning against a few crates to leaning against Eren himself, and each attempt ends in curses and swears before they could even get the man inclined in the slightest. So they settle on lifting his head at every spoonful for the time being.  


“For what reason did you put me in the centre of the room when we first got here?”  


“I already acknowledged that was stupid, alright? Here,” he says, holding out another spoonful of the soup. 

He sits cross-legged, situated between the captain and the window like he is when they sleep, blocking the cool winds that have started to pick up with the oncoming storm. 

It’s quite laborious for the captain to move at all, so making a dent in the soup takes quite a while, and it’s cooled significantly by now, the pleasant warmth emanating through the wood to Eren’s hands now dissipated.  


They’re about halfway through when the captain speaks. “Did you clean this room?”  


Eren smiles hearing the rough, gravelly tone his voice had earlier dissipate with the help of the hot liquid. “I did, when we first got here,” he says with a nod.  


The captain downs another spoon. “You call this clean?”  


“Is it not well done?” he asks, holding out another spoonful. “I thought it was okay.”  


“I can barely see the ceiling through all those cobwebs.”  


Eren’s smile widens. “I can’t reach that high.”  


“All that height and you can’t reach a couple spiderwebs. What are you useful for then?”  


“Feeding you, apparently.” As soon as the words are out, he realizes how rude the teasing can come across, especially considering he had yet to apologize for earlier. Also considering the captain pinches him right at the waist, incredibly hard for a man with injury of his stature.  


Then the wind howls outside, icy air seeping through the cracks of the shutters, and the captain shifts his blankets, slapping Eren’s help away.  


Eren waits patiently, silently, watching as the captain slowly but surely makes himself comfortable, and gives him another spoon of the now room temperature broth. And when he goes to fill another spoon he feels the captain’s eyes lingering on him.  


He puts the spoon down. “What is it?” he asks, curious smile painting his lips.  


“You look like shit.”  


And against his better judgement, Eren laughs at the unexpected observation. “Thanks,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve just been awake for four days keeping you alive is all.” And he feeds the captain another spoonful of soup. This time, he can’t tell if the captain agreed with his tone of amusement or felt insulted again, and he wishes he had the awareness to not make this terrible experience even worse.  


It’s with that thought that Eren begins running laps in his head, and unbeknownst to the lethargic captain, a pair of eyes trail over every inch of his body.  


Every sickly detail daring to show itself.  


The usual pale skin now paper white, almost transparent across his body. Bruises and scrapes especially prominent against the light canvas. Blue veins’ winding paths perfectly vivid. 

The bruises—some new appearances, most old—purple and blue and yellow littered across his chest and arms and who knows how many more on his back. The sharp, thin cuts that would go unnoticed if Eren didn’t look for them. The birthmark cut in two by a particular scrape. The several moles almost unnoticeable due to abrasions all over.  


The pink toes and fingertips, frozen despite having just been under a blanket. The sheen to his skin, having been burning hot and freezing cold over and over during his fever, cold sweats and the excessive stress doing him no favours. His hair, too, shiny from the buildup of natural oils over the days. The deep purple colouring his undereye despite having slept for close to four days straight. The tremble of his limbs at the slightest of movements.  


Eren couldn’t despise it more.  


That any of those things exist is an experience the captain of all people does not deserve. Eren is certain the captain is experiencing such pain not for the first time, and that it has happened again, that he must face such again, is unequivocally shitty. And Eren wants to physically wipe away every single sign of pain as if it were the paint on canvas it appears as.  


But he can’t.  


He can’t get rid of the pain the way he wishes, but he can try. And feeding him the last couple spoons of soup, Eren tells the captain to try and stay awake for a little while, and leaves before his furrowed eyebrows become a verbal question.  


And the next time the captain sees Eren, it’s with a small bucket, a handful of small towels, and a little rock of soap. He says nothing when Eren sets them down, and lets him remove the several blankets he’s using.  


As much as dislikes the idea of being bathed as though he were a child, he silently commends Eren for figuring out on his own that he needs this, and if he had to go another day feeling as disgustingly dirty as he does, he’d start favouring the idea of dying.  


So he sucks it up and settles for being content with the favour he’s being done, wordlessly accepting whatever it is Eren does. It’s not as though he can ask to do it himself anyway.  


“Would you prefer Armin do this instead?”—is what Eren asks moments later, amazingly.  


“Take a guess.”  


Eren replies with a small smile.  


The first thing he feels is a freezing towel pressed over his eyes, and at first he winces, but the longer it’s there the more relieving it is. Then the pressure on his eyes disappear, though the cool towel is left behind and he makes no effort to remove it. In his blindness, he listens to Eren’s movements beside him. There’s a shuffle, and then the sound of water dripping back into the bucket bounces off the empty walls.  


He likes the sound.  


A moment later there’s a warmth on his chest and a chill goes down his body, goosebumps running up from his toes to the back of his neck. And they don’t go away anytime soon seeing as Eren’s running the warm towel over any exposed skin. It’s to be expected.  


Though no amount of anticipation could prepare him for the sheer discomfort, the intense dislike he has of the feeling.  


Never, not once in his life has another set of hands touched his bare skin in such a way. Not much of any other way either, at that. The discomfort of unfamiliar hands is almost enough for him to push them away, almost, but kicking away his subordinates offer of help at such a time—for something as mundane as discomfort—is something he doesn’t do.  


And so the time passes. Every so often he feels a chill, the towel is rung out, the water drips, and the light pressure behind the warm towel is felt somewhere else a moment later.  


It stings now and then, when Eren brushes over a scrape or cut too-thinly-scabbed, when his hands hold onto him just barely too tight for a certain bruise to handle. But Eren takes his time, and the more times he goes over skin the easier it is to ignore the discomfort, the less pain Eren’s hands bring him.  


But it’s after the dripping water sounds for the seventh time that Eren starts at his thighs, and he’s grateful for the towel covering the squeezing of his shut eyes.  


“Hey,” Eren says, and the captain doesn’t really want to hear it. For a moment all he hears is Eren breathing, and among the discomfort quite literally running over his legs, he can feel eyes scanning him. A moment later the now cool towel is gone and his legs are covered with a blanket. He hears a small splash. “I know you didn’t like that, but I can’t really let you do it yourself, and I figure you can deal with it now, since you’ll feel a lot better when I’m done,” Eren continues.  


And Levi presses his thumbs over the towel at his eyes, wondering just how it is that Eren noticed the discomfort he’d in no way expressed. He wonders if Eren had always been so perceptive, and it was him who didn’t notice the quality.  


While he’s lost in thought, Eren’s shuffled behind him and the towel is being pulled off his eyes. Light hits his lids and he blinks them open, meeting the glimmering green eyes above him.  


“Could you lay your head over my leg?”  


“What the fuck?” It just slipped out, he reasons. And Eren has the cheek to laugh when the bastard should be rightly terrified.  


“I still need to wash your hair, if you don’t mind. It’s just easier if your head is off the ground.”  


Sighing, he bites down a wince and lays his head over Eren’s thigh.  


It’s comfortable and awkward. His lap and staring up at him, respectively.  


For the moment he turns to watch Eren’s hands work, and just now realizes that the rock of soap was for his hair. His eyes trail along the floor until they land on the wooden bucket off to the side, and he studies the dents and splinters and nails. Parts of the bucket are a darker brown, damp with water. Eren washed the bucket itself, before using it.  


At least he’s got enough brain to do that without having to be told.  


A moment later he feels a cool sensation on his head. Fingers run over his scalp, back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth, before there’s a pause and a little handful of cool water runs through his hair again. Eren repeats this motion, over and over and over again—running his fingers through his hair, detangling the longer strands, bit by bit, lightly scratching over the short bits of his undercut—until all his hair is damp enough to wash.  


Not a single drop of water runs down his forehead, or into his ears, or over his temples. Not once did tangles catch too roughly. Not a single finger ran with too much pressure. And as the time went by did the captain realize he’d been bearing a headache all this time, because it’s as Eren removes his hands to reach for the soap do his tired eyelids fall shut on their own, and the pounding behind his eyes is no more.  


It’s nice.  


Eren continues on and on, massaging soap onto the roots of his hair, going over sections a few times each. He makes sure there’s a small amount everywhere, before simply running his fingers through the wet, soapy hair for a while. And it’s here where Levi stops registering most of his surroundings, tired mind consumed only with the sensation of delicate fingers brushing through his hair.  


•••  


It’s when his eyes open to darkness and he hears the pitter patter of a fresh storm that he realizes he’d fallen asleep. There’s a stabbing pain at his waist and he shuffles, groaning as he turns to lay on his back and he squeezes his eyes shut again, startled by the brightness of the room.  


He rubs at his eyes to clear up his vision, and it’s when his elbow collides with something on the way up that he notices just why he hasn’t woken with neck pain again.  


He’s still lying on Eren, and he awoke to darkness having turned into Eren’s stomach during his nap.  


It’s embarrassing.  


He wants to lift his head, but he can’t. He’s undoubtedly helpless and it’s embarrassing, shameful even. Even he has the sense to know that, in his situation, the feeling has no merit, it’s normal to require help, sure.  


But it’s damn embarrassing.  


He leaves his arm draped over his eyes, toes curling under the blankets. Eren seems to pick up on his distress, for his fingers begin running through the now dry locks, melting away any chance of a migraine.  


It’s when Eren’s fingers brush his wrist with the intention of moving the arm covering his eyes that he tenses, unpleasant shivers running from the point of contact up to this neck. He moves the arm himself to prevent any more of such contact.  


“Sorry,” Eren says, guilt pouring from his voice. “And… for earlier too,” he mutters, eyes shifting. He seems to understand the uncomfortable air, removing his hand from the tangles of the captain’s hair entirely, and gently pulling his leg out.  


It’s gone completely numb, feeling heavy and difficult to maneuver into the cross-legged position he moves to beside the captain.  


“You should have left. How long was I out?”  


Eren’s brows furrow. “Not long. The sun’s going to set soon.” Eren folds the towels he couldn’t reach earlier, needing something to busy himself. “And I didn’t mind, you were sleeping well, so I didn’t want to disturb you.” He gathers the courage to glance at the captain only to find him already staring, expression flat.  


It’s only a moment before the captain turns away. “Right.”  


The whole interaction leaves a bad taste in his mouth, Eren gathers, as he collects the various items he’d brought to the room and moves to stand. He supposes this all could have been done with plenty more grace, and he regrets not being more empathetic, but the moment’s over so he tries not to think too hard about it.  


It’s quite the fine line anyway; tiptoeing between captain and subordinate, temporary caretaker and newfound patient. Eren supposes he could be doing worse. “I’ll go see if there’s anything to eat,” he says, leaving the captain to his thoughts.  


•••  


For the final bucket of water, he combines equal parts cold water and boiling water he’d brought from inside. He tries not to let too much of it splash his hair when he pours it over his body, seeing how late in the night it was; if he wanted to sleep anytime soon his hair would need to be dry.  


It’s not all that cold outside, really, but the heavy clouds and the harsh winds make it feel almost freezing while he dries off. He could run into the cabin as is, but then he’d have to clean whatever he’d subsequently drag onto the floor, so he thanks his shifting power for giving him a high body temperature and sucks it up.  


Inside, he notes Armin fast asleep as he walks by, and tip toes his way to his shared room.  


The captain is asleep too.  


After their awkward exchange, Eren had taken to avoiding him for the rest of the evening, which meant taking up all the remaining chores for a reason to stay out of their room. He’d washed all the pots, cleaned the lounge floor, fed the horses, boiled rainwater, cleaned the fireplace, and just for another thing to do, he’d washed the clean laundry. And he took his sweet time.  


Despite Armin’s warnings of how cold it was this late at night, he’d gone ahead and taken a shower to make sure the captain had ample time to fall asleep before he’d return.  


It seems it’s paid off.  


He pulls his shirt over his head and his eyes land on the sleeping form of the captain. 

There’s a book held loosely in his hand, thumb resting between the pages. Marking his chapter, perhaps.  


Leaving a small towel to hang at his neck, Eren kneels by his side, gently pulling the book from his grasp and moving the hand to rest on his pillow.  


It had been resting directly on a bruise.  


Marking his place with a fold in the page, he leaves the book by Levi’s pillow.  


There’s a second pillow.  


For no reason in particular, Eren had fallen in the routine of using his arm as a pillow.  


But there’s a second pillow.  


He hadn’t brought it and Armin hadn’t mentioned it. He squints at it for a moment, but the captain shifts in his sleep, turning onto his bad side before feeling pain and shifting back, but in the motion the blankets had slipped off. Eren adjusts them back into place, and finds the third blanket missing.  


The captain takes two blankets, usually, the third meant mostly for Eren.  


The blankets were the acting walls between them, providing a barrier between their respective bodies. Eren hadn’t that intention in mind when he first took a separate blanket for himself, but he’d continued the action after realizing it for the best.  


But his blanket is missing.  


The addition of a pillow and the lack of his blanket.  


Running a hand through his hair, Eren finds it mostly dry. Folding the towel and leaving it off to the side, he moves to lie down, glancing at the door and shutters. He stretches an arm over the captain and pinches the wicks of both candles at his side.  


He lays in his usual spot beside the captain.  


It’s the addition of a pillow and the lack of his blanket.  


He thinks it may be some form of silent reconciliation on the captain’s part; trying to say, in some convoluted, wordless phrase, that Eren’s done nothing wrong, that he’s allowed to be around Levi when he’s asleep, that he doesn’t mind Eren’s presence.  


That he’s welcome to tear down the barrier between them.  


He thinks so.  


Maybe he shouldn’t think so.  


Maybe he’s misunderstood, and the captain was being resourceful; that Eren didn’t need a blanket when he throws it off in the middle of the night anyway, that they would simply be warmer should they share the blankets, that Armin should be given more blankets since the fireplace tends to fizzle out throughout the night.  


Maybe.  


He dismisses the thought, resigning to sleep without the blankets for the night in favour of finally shutting his tired eyes.  


But when he next awakens, the sun hasn’t begun filtering through the shutters, so it takes a while for his eyes to focus, to adjust to the dark, to see the empty pillow almost half a metre away from where he lies. It’s then he notices the tickle at his throat. It’s then he feels the excess weight on his chest. It’s then he realizes how warm he is.  


He wonders if he should question the captain’s actions, but before he can decide he looks down to find the captain fast asleep.  


There is nothing to ask.  


The captain must have been in search of warmth in the night; warmth, or something else, Eren couldn’t know. Either way, he’d come along a solution in his sleep, and this—constricting Eren’s breathing, dooming his legs to numbness, forcing his arms to tire holding him, using Eren as a mattress—this was his drunken minds’ solution.  


He can feel his own heartbeat quicken, and he wonders if the captain feels it too.  


He knows he should move him. He knows that.  


But that doesn’t mean it has to be now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : D ? yes ?
> 
> how did we like it ? do you think i did a good job with levi's changes in attitude ? in contrast, i truly enjoy writing eren's impulsive, shameless self, so let me know what you think of him as well. do you think he could act this way ? i really think he'd be the shameless type when he's comfortable, or maybe i'm just projecting lmao. 
> 
> is the subtle humour working by the way ? this is the story of how they fall in love, but i also want it to be lighthearted and mostly happy, so i hope the style of dialogue and tone of the story helps with that. let me know what you think, as always i adore your thoughts and comments. 
> 
> i did have trouble writing the bath tbh, i didnt know how to do it to make it comfortable to read, but also just the right amount of awkward to reflect how strange levi felt about the situation. again, please let me know. 
> 
> also, y'all are gonna fucking loSE it next chapter lmaoooo im so excited to post it. what do you think will happen ?
> 
> anyway, this got kind of long so, as always my loves, stay safe and healthy, take care, and ill see you all soon.
> 
> make paper cranes --leaf


	4. Chaos Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Books, silent nights, and conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my loves :')))), 
> 
> i missed you, i think this is the longest ive gone without an update, are you proud of me for sticking to my three weeks? im sure no, since you probably want to read it, but let me have this.
> 
> so ive been fasting, and havent been editing or writing as much so i held off on the update to give myself some more time in the future. i figure youd rather wait an extra week now than wait 3 months later yknow ?
> 
> anyway, i really really like this chapter, so i hope you do too.
> 
> enjoy : D.

They’ve ended up with somewhat of an established routine. 

It’s early evening, and the captain tends to pick up a book around this time. Once night falls Eren will spend most of his time in the room with him as well; the one night he hadn’t, the late hours were spent talking with Armin only to return to the room to find his captain fast asleep with a book laying open on his stomach, presumably an unplanned, painful accident. 

With the shutters still open to let in reading light, he’d been freezing, pale nose pink in the cold. Since then Eren had concluded that the captain wouldn’t call for him when he wishes to sleep, so he stays with him, ready to comply wordlessly. 

Every now and then, Levi will have the energy to read long enough that his arms tire from holding the book open above him, resigning to put it down and stare and the dim shadows of spiders moving about on the ceiling. 

The nights tend to be silent, the only noise in the room being the almost constant patter of rain, and the flipping of an old, worn page every so often. Talk is minimal, the captain both keeping to himself and lacking the energy to carry conversation, though, he was never quite the conversationalist to begin with. 

Armin shares the captain’s sentiment of reading, keeping to his words and illustrations when he’s left alone by the fire. 

Eren spends his time simply watching. Observing. Mentally noting the time intervals between when the captain shifts his legs. Learning that it takes him about two nights to finish the average book. Watching the way his eyes droop as the night passes and he fights with fatigue to get to the next chapter. Staring at the bare skin of his arms where Eren’s shirt, loose on the smaller frame of the captain, falls back to his elbows. Studying the way he flips a page and biting away a smile when he sees Levi struggle to separate two. 

They both know, that while Levi minds his business, against the wall sits a man staring at him for hours. 

It’s never acknowledged. 

It’s tonight though, that the routine of the past few days is shifted in the strangest of ways. 

A thumb presses on the collection of pages, sliding back to free the next one when the book slips from the captain’s grasp and falls over his face. Eren, embarrassingly, jolts at the sudden noise, looking up from his fingers to see the commotion. And he doesn’t know if he should laugh or help. There’s an audible groan beneath the pages and a shaking hand grabs at the spine of the book, flinging it across the room weakly. Eren ducks to avoid being hit in head, staring, almost comically, when the book falls into his lap. 

The captain glances at Eren who raises his eyebrows, biting away a chuckle. “You threw that at me on purpose, or…?” 

“Shut up.” He turns back to the ceiling. 

Shaking his head, Eren picks up the book, flipping through the pages until he lands on the one that opens most easily and marking it with a folded corner. He stands, crossing the room to kneel beside the captain who avoids his gaze. 

Eren stares for a moment. The lantern illuminates his face, flame flickering to cast singing shadows and golden glimmers alike. 

“You’ve gotten some strength back.” His smile grows at the healthy colour returning to his captain’s cheeks. “Would you like to try sitting up?” 

It’s then that Levi’s eyes meet Eren’s. With a sigh he shakily pushes an elbow on the floor to brace himself. 

It takes some shuffling and testing—and grunts of pain here and there—before they find a way to get the captain up. This time around, they’re slightly more successful. Eren sits behind him, supporting him with hands at his shoulders as the captain pushes himself up. Or rather, Eren does all the pushing and the captain tries not to succumb to the pain and slip back to the floor. 

With Eren’s support, the captain puts his hands out behind him, pushing on the floor to find balance so Eren can let go. A hand slips and with a thump he falls into Eren’s chest. He can’t find the strength to push himself up a second time, and it takes the next two years’ worth of his self-control to not pinch the bridge of his nose. His back burns at the contact, unpleasant goosebumps forming at his neck and down his arms. 

Eren’s hands come up to his shoulders to push him up once again, to which he waves off. “Just let me back down so we can sleep. The book’s shitty anyway.” 

Eren picks up said book and brings his arms around the captain, encasing him against his body. He holds the book in the captain’s lap, peering over the captain’s shoulder to read over the summary. 

The captain's gone stiff, body tense at the added areas of contact, flushing with the heat of discomfort and Eren’s emanating warmth. 

“It sounds alright,” Eren says. 

Levi feels anything but alright. 

He pushes Eren’s arms off and moves to sit up—or attempts to at least—before Eren finds a hand and gives him the book, holding his shoulders in place. In his lack of strength and growing annoyance he reaches back with a hand and pinches Eren’s waist as well as he can at the angle. 

It does nothing to sway Eren who smiles through a wince, squeezing his shoulders. “You haven’t been able to sit up in over a week, just pretend I’m a wall and finish your book.” 

The captain flips through the pages, finding the one he supposes Eren had marked for him, earlier. “Walls aren’t soft and warm,” he complains. It comes off as the exact opposite. He shuts his eyes, wincing at the nth crack it puts in his authority. 

Eren has the gall to giggle and he recognizes it as a fatal mistake only when Levi makes the journey to turn to him and glare as though he’d doomed humanity with the sound. Choking up, he looks away, staring at the way the captain’s hands grasp the edges of the book. He shakes his head, cursing himself for lacking the ability to understand the captain’s perspective once again. “Sorry—I’m sorry, really,” he stutters. “I won’t do that anymore.” 

Silent, Levi turns away, settling himself before he begins reading. 

He’s finished a chapter before the burning sensation finally calms down as he gets used to feeling of Eren behind him. The nights Eren spends with him don’t bring the same feeling, for Eren tends to join him once he’s already fallen asleep and begins his day hours before Levi opens his eyes, so he’s had little chance to get used to his presence. Only one particular morning did Levi awake before Eren, which was the first day he’d asked Eren to stay with him in his delirious state. 

So regardless of how much contact they’ve had lately, this was new to him. 

It takes two chapters for him to stop feeling the discomfort tainting the night—the goosebumps, the unfamiliar tingles, the itching to pull away, the tenseness of his body straining his already compromised middle—it takes those two chapters, and the uneasiness falls away, as if each sentence on the sixty or so pages were a blade, carving away a sliver of distress at a time. 

Before he realizes, he’s reached the final few chapters and he’s leaning back, pliant against Eren’s chest, and his elbows rest on Eren’s thighs for support. The odd pricks at his back haven’t disappeared. 

He’s read the final sentence and the oil in the lantern has run dry, flame flickering out of life as if waving good luck to the moonlight, now tasked with biting away darkness. 

“That was a nice ending,” Eren says, and the captain tenses before he finishes speaking. 

He’d been so lost in the words, so comfortable he hadn’t realized Eren’s closeness—that he’d leaned in enough to see the fine print. His lack of awareness has gotten to a point of annoyance, really. 

“Sorry,” Eren says, and Levi can hear the disdain in his voice. 

That’s annoying too. “Stop apologizing.” 

“Sorry,” Eren blurts, proving the devoted absence of a vocal filter. He shakes his head clear. “Wait, sor-no.” 

Levi crumbles back into him. “Shut up,” he can’t help but groan. 

“I can’t help it okay,” Eren argues, the desire to save face dripping in his tone. 

“’It’?” 

“Worrying that I’m making you uncomfortable.” 

The captain scoffs. “You’re not that special, Eren.” 

“What?” 

Levi shakes his head, stray strands of hair tickling Eren’s throat. “There hasn’t been a moment since we’ve gotten here that I’ve been comfortable. Nothing you’ve said or done rivals that in the slightest.” He says so knowing the blatant lie sitting on his lips, seeing as it were only moments ago he’d been comfortable enough to lose track of his surroundings, but he justifies it knowing no amount of comfort would cancel out the throbbing pain at his waist. 

There’s a slight upturn of lips behind him. 

“Right,” Eren says, looking down at the head of messy black hair. “I’m just trying not to make it worse.” At that he lifts a hand, fingers brushing at the top few strands that have tousled out of place, but before Levi has the chance to smack his hand away Eren sits up straight, pushing Levi forward with no warning. 

It elicits various curse words slipping from the captain's lips and he clenches his teeth and fists alike. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Eren gently nudges him off his lap. “Sorry—” he starts, before being cut off by a glare Levi manages to throw him. “Right.” 

Eren’s hands come to his arms, holding him upright as he stands, cautiously stepping away before he lets go. “We forgot to change your bandage this morning, the horses acting up in the storm and all,” he explains, ignoring how stupid he feels for forgetting. “Let me go grab a towel…” he says on his rush out of the room, oblivious to the forming disaster. 

••• 

Eren’s taken his sweet time to find a small towel, and with his newfound freedom of movement, Levi stretches out to grab the first aid kit sitting by his knees. He supposes he could prepare the new bandaging until Eren returns. Opening it, he takes out the now small roll of bandage. 

There’s a small bottle tucked away beneath it. 

Not more than a second passes before the gears click into place and suddenly he can hear his heart thumping in his ears. The growing anger drips off his fingertips, the whiter his knuckles get the more searing the upset grows. 

He picks up the damn thing, fragile glass shut with an old cork. He grips it with as much strength the one hand can muster, thumb pushing on the cork so firmly loose edges crumble off. 

Eren chooses that moment to run back in. “Hey, thanks for… what—” and he cuts himself off when his eyes land on what Levi holds. He slaps a hand over his mouth, pausing in front of the closed door. 

The grey of his eyes pierce through the dim moonlight. “This is why I’m alive?” 

The calm of his voice doesn’t fool Eren in the slightest. Slowly, he lowers his hand, nodding as he feels his mouth go dry. “Yeah.” 

“You did this?” he asks, hand snapping up to reveal the bottle held between his thumb and forefinger. 

Eren takes the smallest of steps forward. “Yes.” 

The captain flings the bottle to a spot right beside Eren’s head, the movement so sharp he couldn’t hope to dodge it should Levi have aimed it at his head. “Where’s my knife?” 

“What?” 

“The knife I keep latched to my boot.” 

“Why—” 

“Because I’m going to cut your feet off at the ankles.” And before Eren can stop him, he’s up on his feet and throwing himself at Eren. He trips at the last second, landing with a forearm to Eren’s throat and slamming him into the wall in the process. 

It knocks the air out of Eren’s lungs and he struggles to breathe, unable to process the situation. "You’re going to rip the stitches open—” he chokes out, arms scrambling to hold the struggling man upright. 

The captain thrashes to resist his persistent hold, smacking Eren’s hands away with his one free arm until he gets a grip, pinning it to the wall beside Eren’s head. “I should, I fucking should rip ‘em open,” he hisses with a grimace when Eren frees his hand, pinning his own to his side. “What in the ever-loving fuck were you thinking? You’re alive. You, of all people, are alive right now.” With each word growled through clenched teeth does he press his forearm relentlessly against Eren’s throat. “Do you think thousands of people have died to save you for you to bite the dust picking plants and hunting honey?” 

The strength with which he speaks sends shivers down Eren’s spine, yet no matter the discomfort he forces himself to meet his captain eye-to-eye. He’s sure the gash on his jaw has begun bleeding again. 

“Do you think your friend risked her life to follow Annie through the woods to be paid with this? Do you think I shredded her with a broken ankle for you to die here? Did Erwin lose his arm on an expedition to rescue you, and only you, for this bullshit?!” He spits the word ‘you’ as though it burns his tongue to speak it. “How many times do I have to tell you to restrain yourself?” 

Eren watches silently, astounded as the captain stops, hanging his head low as he gasps for breath. He struggles to find places to hold the man without hurting him, fighting the trembling arm that resists his hold. It’s a moment later and the captain glowers at him once again, standing up on his toes as though the pause had been fueling his anger instead of dissipating it. “Captain, please—” he begins, voice suffocated once again by the captain’s forearm as he leans forward. 

Levi’s legs tremble. He presses on. “Do you think you get to die on your own terms? Do you think your life belongs to you?” he growls under hooded eyes, tongue on the edge of cursing bloody murder. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The silent fight between their arms is stopped in an instant when Levi finally gets hold of Eren’s arm again, pinning it against the wall with a strength of finality. Leaning in close, he lowers his now gravelly voice to a whisper. “You are no one special, Eren Jaeger.” He rests all his weight onto his forearm. “You are a slave to your title.” And it’s the last thing he says before his legs give out. 

Eren falls to the ground with him, catching him on the way down. He pulls back on Levi’s shoulders, forcing him to lean back into Eren’s chest. 

The captain makes every attempt to fight him, twisting and turning in his grasp, slipping off his legs, sliding further down the floor, anything. Eren strains to find a way to hold him still without hurting his middle more than the struggle already is. With nowhere left to grab, he finds Levi’s wrists, gripping them tight enough he’s sure they’re to bruise. He tells himself he’ll worry about the guilt he feels later. Pulling him back, he ignores the pain at his chest when the captain crashes shoulder first into him. He digs his chin down onto the captain head, locking him in place. 

And finally, his muscles loosen, and he crumbles into Eren as he catches his breath, harsh exhales running down the collar of Eren’s shirt to send a different kind of shiver down his spine. 

Once he’s sure Levi won’t resist anymore, Eren lifts his head to cough away the ghost of the captain’s arm blocking his airway before his own share of gasps ring throughout the room. 

The captain’s arms twist under his grip and with a twinge of regret Eren lets go to lean back on his arms. And in spite of Levi’s current resentment towards the man, he follows Eren’s movements, body betraying him in its lack of strength. 

With a burst of courage Eren attempts to calm the flames, adjusting his stance to lean on one hand as he rests the other in the captain’s hair with a decisive plop. He waits before he does anything, waits for his hand to be smacked away or to be cursed out. Neither happen. 

Perhaps the captain was too tired for either. 

Perhaps. 

And so he persists. He runs his fingers through the black hair, detangling the long strands and brushing away the headache he knows has formed with gentle runs of his nails along his scalp. 

As the night endures, the last legs of moonlight are hidden behind storm clouds, leaving the two engulfed by darkness. Eren let’s up, hand falling back to take some weight off the other and he steadies his breath, resting his chin on the captain’s head once again. His chest trembles with the worry that he’ll set off the man should he speak, but he does anyway. “Doesn’t that go for you as well, then?” he asks. “‘Humanity’s strongest soldier’ and all. You think you’re allowed to die on your own terms? That people aren’t allowed to save you?” he says, voice muffled into Levi’s hair. 

The captain freezes for a moment, breath catching in his throat and Eren dares to roll his eyes, only because the captain isn’t facing him to see it. “Just do it. I know you want to.” 

The pinch at his waist is particularly weak, but if it eases the captain’s annoyance, sure. 

Eren leans forward, arms wrapping around Levi to find his hands. He holds one in both his own, pulling back the fabric of the long sleeve to expose the wrist he knows will begin to colour soon. 

The hand is yanked away not a moment later. 

Eren bites his lip. “I—” 

“Don’t apologize.” 

The words die in Eren’s throat, and he smiles to himself. “I’m glad you keep saying that,” he says. “Because I’m not sorry about what I did for you.” 

No words are spoken after that, and after the painstaking process of getting the captain back to his blankets, they change his bandages. Eren’s genuinely surprised to find that no stitches were ripped in all the movement, nonetheless grateful, and he thinks he might be able to cut them loose in the next couple days then. It’s the bandage at his jaw that comes away tainted with red, just as he’d thought, and he tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest when the captain turns his eyes away as he treats it, for he’d usually stare at Eren in an attempt to fluster him. 

Once he’s cleaned up the medical supplies and the glass shattered near the door, Eren lies with him and does as he usually would, turning to wrap his arms around the smaller shoulders before him. 

The captain slaps his hands away. 

He supposes the reaction was to be expected. 

It takes a lot of him to not try again. 

It takes a lot but he thinks he’s done enough strong arming tonight to last a lifetime. 

He thinks about how the captain has no control of his strength. How humiliating it must have been to succumb to his own subordinates hold when angry with him, only because he couldn’t support his own weight. Something about that isn’t quite right. 

Not really. 

Not at all. 

So he doesn’t push it. 

This time, just this time, he doesn’t. 

••• 

“He’s not talking to me at all.” 

Instead of the sympathy Eren wants, Armin laughs at him. “You should have seen it coming,” he says. He pauses his folding to turn, looking at Eren slouched by the fireplace. “Jokes aside, we do need you alive. What you did was stupid.” 

Eren sighs, head dipping under the scrutinizing gaze aimed at him. It’s not often Armin is disappointed in him. “I already got this from you before I left okay, you don’t have to say it again.” 

Armin laughs again. 

“And besides, I was choked for like three minutes straight when he found out, I think I’ve had enough.” 

“He was, what, half dead? And how many scratches did he manage to give you?” 

Eren takes off his socks, balling them up and timing his toss so it hits Armin as he turns around. “They healed so I couldn’t count,” he says, laughing a little too loudly when the ball hits Armin’s head perfectly and ducking when he tosses it right back. 

“You’re disgusting.” Armin shakes his head, joining Eren against the wall. 

“And you lack awareness,” he says, right as Armin knocks into his shoulder. 

It’s in the pause that his thoughts do as they please. 

It’s been three days. 

Since that night it’s been three days and the captain hasn’t spoken to him. 

Armin’s been bringing the captain his food and new share of books, and Eren could feel how unwelcome he was for the past two evenings, only stepping foot in the room after the captain had fallen asleep. 

They’d interacted only once, earlier in the day. Eren had gone to treat his wounds and cut his stitches loose, the cut looking significantly better on the outside. Given the relentless pain the captain’s been in regardless of how well the gash was doing, Eren explained the likely possibility that any number of ribs may have been bruised or potentially broken when he’d crashed to the ground. It seemed to be the only internal problem showing symptoms, for which Eren is extremely grateful. Over the course of the two weeks, life threatening internal injuries would have peaked by now, so he safely assumes the captain is well on the way to live. 

It was after all was said and done and Eren had been out the door when the captain spoke. “When can I leave this room?” he’d asked. 

“Now, if you can manage to stand up again.” 

The captain had simply crossed his legs and looked out the window. 

Eren bends his legs, knees knocking into Armin’s as he copies his stance. He brings his arms up to rest on his knees. There’s an especially long abrasion on the right arm, stretching from his elbow to mid-forearm. “I bruised his wrists,” he says. He can feel Armin’s quizzical gaze resting on his profile. “He collapsed. He couldn’t even hold himself up but he still didn’t want me to touch him. I had to hold him so hard to get him to listen to me that I bruised his wrists.” 

“Doesn’t sound like him,” Armin says. 

Eren doesn’t know what to make of the response. He shakes his head in some attempt to physically move the unsettled air. “How’s your ankle been?” 

“Well, it’s not purple anymore, and it doesn’t really hurt much actually,” he begins, and Eren can hear the smile on his lips. “I say that but I limp everywhere.” 

Eren shares in the chuckle. 

“Hey,” Armin says, and Eren can feel his eyes on him again, so he turns to him. There’s a nervous quiver to his smile. “You’re uhm…” 

Eren’s eyebrows furrow. “What?” he prompts. 

“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” 

Eren’s eyes widen in surprise. “I’m what?” 

“You like him.” 

“I’ve always liked him.” 

Armin can’t help but laugh. “Right. I mean you’ve been ogling him since we were kids haven’t you,” he says, as though he were reminiscing rather than actually asking the question. 

“Shut up,” Eren says, playfully smacking his chest. “What are you on about?” 

It’s Armin’s turn to smack him, this time. “I’m on about you falling for him.” 

“What does that even mean?” he says, turning his body to face the blond. 

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Armin says with a tone of incredulity, mirroring Eren’s stance. 

“Okay,” he begins, and Armin thinks he can get somewhere. “But I’ve always liked him.” 

“Eren,” he calls, slapping him in the chest. 

“Armin,” Eren mocks. He attempts to retaliate with the same slap, except Armin knows to move away, so instead of a smack it’s a mere brush of fingers. He sighs, resigning to have the conversation. “You mean I’m falling in love with him, right?” 

Armin leans back, shaking his head as a smile grows on his lips. “Yeah,” he begins, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit. “You’re falling in love with him.” 

“Is that what’s been happening?” Eren says, almost asking himself instead of Armin, leaning his head against the wall. 

“What do you think?” Armin asks, voice hush. 

Eren’s gaze flits about, from the dancing shadows on the walls to the cracks in the floorboards. “I don’t know… I don’t- I don’t know,” he says. His eyes trace a particular line of grain in the wooden panels, where the dark lines look as though they were an outline to a flame. “What do you think?” he asks. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do you think I’m falling for him?” 

Armin doesn’t laugh, because Eren asks the question with such sincerity, such confusion that he doesn’t have the heart to come across as mocking. Nonetheless, he raises his eyebrows in astonishment. “You’re asking me about your feelings?” 

“You asked me about it in the first place, so tell me why.” 

He supposes that’s fair reasoning. “Because you don’t listen to him.” 

“I don’t listen to anybody.” 

The candor of the statement pushes a giggle between them. 

“Very true, but I meant…” Armin pauses, choosing his words. “You do what you think he needs, not what he asks you to do.” 

Eren’s brows furrow. “Is that not what you do for someone who’s injured?” 

Armin resists the urge to facepalm. “You’d sit still for a half a day watching just any other person sleep in your lap? You’d let just anyone lean into you for half a night to read? You’d spoon feed the next person who walks up with tired arms—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it, maybe I like him a little bit more than I should,” he admits. But once the words are out, he wonders. Wonders if maybe it’s just the admiration. Wonders if maybe, after years of looking up to the man, having him in such proximity has left him confused. He wonders. 

But there’s the nights he spends lying awake brushing black hair out of closed eyes and untangling blankets that wrap too hard around a thin waist, swallowing yelps when a knee knocks right into his stomach and breathing away shivers when thin, trembling arms wrap around his middle. 

There’s the mornings he spends lying awake as he plans how to untangle their legs and get the captain off his chest without waking him, as he runs fingers through long strands to usher the man back to a deep sleep past his regular routine, and as he makes sure to double up the blankets when he does free himself, to make sure the captain doesn’t get too cold. 

And that makes his uncertainties a little less uncertain. 

“A little?” Armin says in a false mockery. 

Eren slaps at his hand. “Hush, you.” 

Armin bites his lip. “And he doesn’t ask for any of that either, just look at who we’re talking about,” he says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… well it’s like when you were gone, right?” he begins. “I didn’t really do anything for him because I didn’t know what I could do without… without crossing the boundary. He’s our captain, y’know?” When Eren nods in understanding, he continues. “I just… I’d just wait until he really needed something, or until he asked.” 

“No I get it, it’s hard to judge when he’ll be okay with something.” 

“But that’s the thing. You don’t tiptoe around that boundary, you jump right over it.” 

Eren furrows his eyebrows. 

“Look, it’s like the day after you got back. We both know how… questionable…I guess… it was for you to literally bathe him, right?” 

“Okay well you don’t have to put it like that.” 

Armin swats at his head, missing because Eren’s finally prepared for it. “Well it was, but you didn’t even think about that. You didn’t hesitate because he’s your captain and you’re some soldier. You just knew he’d be more comfortable if you’d done it, so you did. That… no one else would do something like that, not for him.” 

“What does ‘for him’ mean?” 

And this time he does facepalm, inwardly cursing his friends utter lack of awareness. 

“I’m just saying,” Eren defends. “I’d do those things for you too.” 

Despite himself, Armin smiles. “Right,” he begins. “But there’s a difference between doing those things for someone who already loves you, and doing them for someone who literally has the authority to kill you if you disobey him.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, but there’s a slight upturn of his lips anyway. 

“And for him means,” Armin continues, “he’s intimidating as hell. And everyone, but you, wouldn’t even think about doing the things you do ‘cause one; he’s their captain, and two; he’s intimidating.” 

And it makes sense to Eren, it does, really. But there’s one part that doesn’t add up. 

He knows Levi is his captain. 

It’s not as though he’d been intentionally blurring the lines because he’d unconsciously liked him all this time. It’s not as though he hadn’t control of his actions or he wasn’t thinking of Levi as a captain due to his injuries. It’s not as though he didn’t find the captain intimidating, that he thought of him as any less of an authority figure due to his current weakness or any other such reason. 

He’s fully aware of their current relationship, of their current boundaries. 

He is, and he has been. But he’s been walking all over that boundary like he owns it. 

“I don’t think I’m falling for him,” he says. 

“What? Eren, we just established—" 

“No I… I don’t think I’m falling for him; I think I’m walking myself right into it.” 

“Alright,” Armin sighs in defeat. “It’s my turn to not understand the conversation.” 

Eren opens his mouth to speak, words of defense maybe, sitting on the edge of his tongue, but he registers what he’d just said and shrinks into himself, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he says, pursing his lips. 

“Try me,” Armin says. 

Eren doesn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words. It’s when he’s not giving a declarative, motivational speech about fighting titans that he loses all sense of vocabulary, and he’s not very well versed in the study of his own feelings anyway. He feels Armin’s gaze start burning a hole in his forehead before he thinks of anything to say. “Stop looking at me with expectations,” he says. It’s all he could come up with. 

Armin laughs at him. 

Of course he does. 

“Trust me when I say I have no expectations,”—he ignores Eren’s glare—“just say whatever you’re thinking, I’ll try my best to understand,” he says, as reassuring as he can be. 

Eren sighs. “Everything I’ve done for him, I’ve done knowing he’s our captain. It’s not like I just forgot and let feelings I didn’t even know I had get the best of me, right?” 

“Yeah,” Armin nods. “I can understand that.” 

“I just- I just don’t think I’m ‘falling’ for him, like it’s some accident. I mean for fucks sake he fights me on everything I do and elbows me in the ribs halfway through the night. Like you said, he even has the authority to kill me if need be, so… there’s that…” he sputters, trailing off. He doesn’t think any of it made sense, and Armin’s giggling paired with the pinching-the-bridge-of-his-nose do nothing to reassure him he’s said anything of substance. 

He’s about to take it back and admit he’s fallen, whatever the term means, when Armin finally meets his eyes. 

“Okay I don’t- I don’t think you know what you’re saying—” he begins, and Eren shrinks into himself with a small ‘yeah I don’t’. “—but I get it—" 

“You do?” Eren asks with a little too much enthusiasm, back straightening as he looks at Armin in anticipation. 

“—I think,” he finishes, and Eren visibly deflates. “Shut it, I think I do. Really,” he reassures. “You didn’t fall into the river, you jumped in.” 

“Right,” Eren says, bouncing up again. 

Armin shakes his head, the corners of his lips curling upwards against his will. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, turning his body to lean back against the wall again. 

Eren follows his movements, and when he speaks again, Armin can hear the happy smile morph into a sad one. “It’s a problem though, isn’t it?” 

Hearing the words makes any excitement Armin had on behalf of his friend fizzle out of him as well. “I guess it’s like we’ve said. He’s our captain, this can’t… well it can’t really go anywhere.” He doesn’t like the way the words taste on his tongue when he says them. 

“You say that like he’ll ever see me as anything more than… me.” 

“What’s wrong with being you?” Armin points out, a new kind of sincerity dripping from his tone. 

“I’m a soldier, he’s my captain, we established this.” 

“He’ll get passed that.” 

“Right, because he’s so open minded,” Eren scoffs. “I didn’t get choked for breaking rules, by the way,” he mocks. 

Armin humours him with a smile, but doesn’t like the hopelessness in his voice. “I think he’s getting there,” he says. 

“Really?” Eren asks doubtfully. “You sure about that?” 

And Armin knows Eren’s looking at him, eyes skeptical. “You know, I kind of am, and I think you will be too,” he says, turning to meet his gaze. “Just think about how he responds to you, Eren. I know he doesn’t actually say much but… it’s in his actions.” 

Eren bites his lip as if to ask, ‘you think so?’ 

Armin nods. “Although, with him, I think it’s definitely a case of falling. No one would sit there and consciously choose to be in love with you.” And it takes a second, but when Eren knocks his shoulders hard and buries his head in his hands, Armin knows he’s succeeded in getting him to laugh. 

“You’re horrible,” Eren says through giggles he wishes weren’t slipping from his lips. And when the laughter dies down, it takes only a moment for Eren to speak again. “Armin,” he says. 

“Hm?” 

“What do I do?” he asks. 

Armin doesn’t respond immediately, taking a moment to come up with anything coherent. He finds that he can’t. “You think maybe you could swim yourself out of that river?” he suggests weakly. It’s Eren they’re talking about. The man would get lost in a million different things—from river-plants to fish to pearls—before he even thinks about getting out of the water. 

Eren smiles, silent as they both already know the answer. “What would you do?” he says instead. “Fallen for any authority figures lately?” he half-teases half-asks, nudging Armin’s shoulder. 

“Well,” Armin begins with a definitive huff. “I’ve kind of been busy trying not to die, and before that, you and Mikasa were the only people who talked to me, so no not really.” 

“Okay well I’ve been busy trying not to die too, alright,” he defends. 

“Sure, you have, but you’ve also been head over heels for your man since we were seven and then he became your leader,” he says, bursting with laughter when he sees the appalled expression painting Eren’s features. 

“I can’t believe you called him- I- you can’t—” 

“You know you’re blushing right now?” 

“Shut it before I seal your lips in your sleep,” Eren threatens, though his pink cheeks and hidden eyes make him look about as intimidating as a feather. 

“Like you’d give up even a second of your nightly staring to—” and he’s cut off only because he’s been physically shoved to the ground. And he stays there laughing until he can barely catch his breath anymore. 

Eren shakes his head, trying to clear the heat burning his cheeks from the inside, as he stands to leave. “I ask you for advice and this is what I get, should’ve known better,” he says in a futile attempt to mask his embarrassment. 

Armin finally crawls himself upright, watching Eren leave. “You really should have,” he calls behind him, catching the pillow Eren tosses at him with a huff. “Hey,” he calls again, continuing when Eren turns to him. “I do want to help you, though.” He squeezes the pillow to his chest. “I’ll try and come up with something, really,” he says, all traces of laughter gone and replaced entirely by sincerity. 

“You are the one that makes plans,” Eren says, leaning on the doorframe. 

“Yeah,” Armin replies, nodding. “Yeah I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaos Theory: the study of chaos; states of dynamical systems whose apparently-random states of disorder and irregularities are often governed by deterministic laws that are highly sensitive to initial conditions; things that are impossible or very difficult to control and predict.
> 
> Systems may appear random at first look, but chaos theory says that these kinds of systems or patterns may not be.
> 
> •••
> 
> : DDDDDDD
> 
> right, so they fought. kind of. 
> 
> okay but, that armin eren conversation tho ??? isnt it so nice ? i love that scene sm its probably one of my favourites that ive written. 
> 
> as for levi, we all know he tends to stick to his rulebook and so, idk, i feel like he would react like that, even if it leads to his own demise, after all, he's never opposed to suicide missions, mans really prepared to die to save erwin and eren at any moment so here we are. little bitch, i want him to live :"((.
> 
> and idk about everyone else, but i really like their titles, humanitys strongest and humanitys hope, it's something they have in common in canon, that they're both this symbol, and it puts a burden on their shoulders that no one else can bear. of course, eren gets closure with his title at the end of season three part one, but i feel like he definitely struggled with this sudden responsibility shoved onto him the moment the survey corps thought hed be useful. i thought it would be nice for them to argue about this, since they might know each others feelings here. 
> 
> levi is also one of the most empathetic characters ive ever seen, which is part of why i love him sm, and for him to fail at recognizing that he and eren hold the same burden in this situation, is an interesting conflict that he deals with soon. i thought that was interesting as well. 
> 
> anyway, this is way too long, i sincerely hope you all enjoyed, it means the world to me that youre here. feel free to leave comments about things you enjoyed, or even things you thought could need improvement. 
> 
> as always, stay healthy my loves.
> 
> try sakura tea --leaf


	5. Regression to the Mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unimportant stories, candles, and warm hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my loves : D,
> 
> okay so, i really, really, reALLY planned to wait a couple more days, but i happened to check for comments and saw that the work hit 100 kudos ????? yall wild i cant believe how many people have been supporting this fic and its only been a couple months. insane bruh. since its already been two weeks, i decided id just post ?? yall deserve it.
> 
> so, i absolutely adore this chapter, enjoy : D

Turning into the hallway, Eren is surprised to see light shining from under the door—by this hour, surely the captain would be asleep. 

Eren pauses with a hand on the doorknob, wondering if he should leave until the captain’s fallen asleep, or if he should risk the awkward air. 

Then again, he supposes the captain could have fallen asleep with the lamp still on, though the past couple nights, that hasn’t been the case. 

Eren shuffles a single sock-clad foot backwards, having decided to leave, but the simple movement causes the old floorboards to give way to a loud creak, and now, should the captain be awake, would he know that Eren had been outside. 

Wincing at himself momentarily, Eren resigns to his mistake, turning the knob to face whatever is to come. 

He finds the captain laying on his good side, staring at the flame of a large, stout candle sitting on a dish. He doesn’t spare Eren a glance when the door opens, nor when Eren shuts it, nor when Eren sits against the wall, directly in his line of sight. 

“You’re up late,” Eren says, after a moment. He almost regrets it when the captain looks at him with annoyance, turning to lay flat on his back. 

“Took you long enough to get here. Did you lose the door?” 

The response, although meant to insult Eren in some way, reassures him, only because the captain had responded at all. Despite himself, Eren smiles at the floor. “No, Armin and I were just… we were talking.” 

Levi turns to Eren, watchful eyes glancing at the face hidden in the shadows. He turns away. 

Eren doesn’t notice. 

“Anything important?” the captain asks. 

The word ‘no’ sits on Eren’s tongue when he pauses. 

‘Important’. 

Recalling how he’d just admitted his admiration has turned to affection, Eren supposes the conversation was quite important. “Yes,” he says, almost to himself. 

“Well?” 

Eren looks up to find the captain looking at him, eyes filled with expectation. “’Well’ what?” He could swear the captain had rolled his eyes before he turned away. 

“Well, did you figure out why you couldn’t transform, or why titans were following your command or what their goal was with you? What did you discuss?” 

Eren’s eyes visibly widen with the realization of what the captain meant, and his cheeks go hot when it comes to mind that those are, indeed, important things he could be discussing with Armin. 

How embarrassing. 

“Oh! Not- not that kind of important,” he stutters through the heat rising to his cheeks. 

“What other kind of important is there?” the captain questions. Beneath the thick layer of irritated, there’s sincere confusion in his tone, as though Eren’s words come from a man of delusion. 

Eren doesn’t blame him. With the growing awkwardness in the air, his flush deepens and he turns back to the ground. “Not that kind,” is all he can say, though he knows it makes less than any amount of sense. 

He stares into his lap, all too aware of the scrutinizing gaze burning a hole in his head from across the room. He tries not to feel embarrassed, reasoning that his statement was quite normal, at least from his perspective. But then he thinks about the captain watching him blush and stutter over his useless feelings, completely clueless to his dilemma and attributing his strange reactions to who-knows-what, and it only deepens his embarrassment. 

It takes the sound of a page flipping for Eren to realize that the captain had long lost interest in his antics. He presses his cool hands to his cheeks, hoping to diminish any remaining legs of noticeable heat on them. 

Peering through his eyelashes, Eren watches as nimble fingers flip a page. For only a moment, he becomes distracted by the movement of the captain’s legs bending and when he looks back, his eyes meet Levi’s and Eren can’t help but look away. Tracing the lines of his palm, he wonders why he’s become so bashful. 

“You know,” Levi begins, and Eren can’t bring himself to look up just yet, jaw tightening. “If you run your finger through the flame quick enough, it won’t burn,” he says. 

He hears a thump, and, steeling himself, Eren lifts his head to find the captain sitting up. He doesn’t move to go help him, and he wants to think it’s because he knows the captain can manage on his own—that it’ll give the captain confidence to move around more—but in reality, it’s the lesser, more pathetic reason that he doesn’t want his hold to be rejected and fought again. 

The captain sits cross-legged with the stout candle sitting in front of him. He rests his chin on a hand, the other busy demonstrating the little trick on the tall flame. “Come try it.” 

At first, Eren is too surprised by the turn of the conversation to move, curious to the purpose of the invitation. It’s when the captain’s eyes fall on him, annoyance ever-present, that he snaps out of his daze and takes the invite as an order. 

He sits across the captain, mirroring his posture. 

For the moment, he watches. 

The captain continues, absentmindedly passing his finger through the flame, over and over and over. It breaks each time, flowing over Levi’s fingers like a stream of fog. He flicks a finger through it, once more, then twice, before the hand finally backs away. 

Eren takes that as his cue. He smiles when he feels the quick, momentary burn on his skin. 

Nostalgia runs through his veins, and for no reason in particular, he has to urge to tell his captain a certain unimportant, severely insignificant, short little story. 

“When I was a kid,” he begins, voice hush as if he wanted not even the flame to hear his words. “Maybe seven or eight, there was this one night where it was storming really hard, just like tonight. My mom and I couldn’t fall asleep.” Staring down at the flame, Eren notices it’s become blurrier than fire tends to be. 

“My mom dared me to stick my hand in the fireplace. I thought she was crazy,” he says, shaking his head. “She told me if I did it fast, it wouldn’t hurt even a little.” He runs a finger through the flame. “I think I almost cried. I thought she was lying.” Eren’s voice trembles on the last few words and he has to stop. 

For a moment he has to stop, and breathe. Breathe away the tears and the pain. The pain that had been buried leagues away was now walking its way up his legs and flipping his stomach thrice over before sitting firmly on his heart. He feels the all too familiar feeling of his ribcage closing in on his lungs. 

“I thought,” he starts shakily. “I thought something bad was going to happen and honestly tried to pretend I wasn’t scared.” He tries to laugh at the memory, knowing he fooled not even himself. “She didn’t even care she just started teasing me—” he says, and a smile paints his lips. “—teasing me about how much of a scaredy-cat I was being that I got mad and just did it really quickly.” He runs a finger through the flame. “And when nothing happened I did actually cry I think, I was so happy my hand didn’t burn off.” 

Eren offers the biggest of smiles to the candle, blinking away the sting in his eyes. When he looks up, he meets eyes. He bites at his smile, cocking his head the slightest bit in silent question. 

Levi’s eyes stay locked on Eren as though he were searching for an answer of sorts. To what, Eren couldn’t say, but he holds his own, gaze unwavering in the strange silence. 

And given the awkward nature of the situation, Eren’s surprised to find no discomfort in the air. 

Levi blinks. “Quite the stupid kid,” he says. 

And for a moment the silence persists, then Eren has to break eye contact to bite away a laugh. “And you’re so sure you were better?” he retaliates, perfectly aware of the inappropriate stature. 

“Undoubtedly.” 

Eren smiles up at him only to find he’s shifted his gaze to the flame again. As it flickers, Eren’s smile fades and he wonders when he’d been given the privilege of talking with the captain again. 

He wonders when the captain had stopped being angry with him. He wonders if he’d been angry at all. With the current atmosphere he thinks maybe he can get the captain to talk, for once. “Are you really, sincerely upset with me?” he asks, taking his chances. 

There’s a pause, and for a moment Eren thinks it’s the captain mentally preparing for the pain he’ll have to endure when he kicks Eren, but then he glares. 

“If you’re honestly asking that question, then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” 

“I’m trying to resolve whatever’s going on here.” Eren resists the slightest of slight urges to roll his eyes. 

“It’s not a matter of what I felt,” he says, and Eren can hear the ‘you brat’ lingering in the pause. “You broke rules.” 

Eren feels the hypocrisy of the statement run down his bones. His captain, sitting before him and telling him emotions weren’t part of the situation. Right. 

But he doesn’t push it. He doesn’t say anything, because he thinks maybe the captain himself can’t figure out just why he was so angry. He thinks maybe, just maybe, the captain can’t navigate the paths this time. 

After awkwardness grows in the air, the captain breaks the silence. “I take it you transformed without my permission?” 

“What was I supposed to do?” Eren retaliates, ignoring the suggestion that there are blanks in the captain’s memory. 

“Nothing,” Levi says, without missing a beat. 

“You can’t expect—" 

“I can, and I did.” 

Eren almost glares at him. Almost. “Well, I can’t accept that, and I didn’t.” 

The captain glares at him. 

And of course he does. Of course, Eren is always in the wrong. Eren gets no autonomy. Eren can’t try to save someone’s life. Eren can’t die. Eren can’t do anything. 

But he did. 

For once, he did something other than get kidnapped, and the benefits of his actions is living, breathing, feeling, and shivering right before him, and still, Eren is in the wrong. “I get it,” he all but spits. 

“What?” 

“I get it now. It’s not me who’s being stubborn here. It’s you.” 

Levi glowers at him. “Of course I’m being stubborn. I can’t rule whether your actions were acceptable or not independently. This puts me in a bind because once I report what you’ve done, the survey corps might lose you, which would be a detrimental loss, given your potential. You think your actions are simple; save a life. And you did, but you didn’t have the authority to do so, and I have to report it.” 

“That’s the exactly the problem,” he mumbles. 

The captain clicks his tongue. “What are you whispering about under your breath, speak up.” 

“You’re being insufferable,” he says, loud enough his breath causes the flame to shake below him. 

The captain, to Eren’s initial surprise, physically recoils the smallest noticeable bit, as though daring Eren to continue speaking. “What?” 

Eren’s more than angry, however. “You think I don’t get all of that?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re wrong,” he says firmly, sitting up straight. “I understand completely. From the Corps standpoint, I understood months ago that I don’t have authority over my own actions. Trust me, I had two days of wandering out there to contemplate the weight of m—” 

“You’ve done a bad job, then.” 

“Don’t interrupt me,” he says. When Levi doesn’t respond, he lowers his voice, and gathers the confidence to continue. “I get it, alright, that I’m not allowed to transform, that we don’t risk losing more people. I get it,” he says. And he takes a deep breath, calming his insides. 

He bites his lip. “But did you maybe stop to think that you are important too?” 

The captain stares through him. 

“That,” Eren continues, “it’ll be understood that I had to transform to keep myself alive while I was out ‘hunting honey’? That I couldn’t get permission because you were an arm’s length away from death? That maybe, since I didn’t actually lose control, it would be okay because I managed to save ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’? Did you think maybe I’d be acknowledged? Did you think about any of those things?” He pauses for just a second, though he’s nothing but clueless as to how effective his argument had been. Either way, Levi’s silence was an answer. “Didn’t think so,” he concludes. “So as I said, you’re the one being stubborn here.” 

Levi doesn’t say anything for a bit, and it’s when Eren is sighing and resigned to the conversation being over that he speaks. “Did you stop fighting your own battles to save me?” 

At that, Eren almost wishes the conversation had ended. “What? After all I just said—" 

“Context, Eren, I’m asking for context. Did you neglect your own duties and go out of your way to save me?” 

Eren doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s the truth. “Y-yes? But not really—” Levi glares at him, as expected. “—you helped me first, when you finally showed up. I had to go pick you up so you wouldn’t get crushed, but there were only a few titans around, and then Armin and I left with you.” 

“Lies of omission are still lies, Eren,” he counters. “Do you like lying to your superiors?” 

The captain’s begun using his name. “Huh?” he asks eloquently. 

“On the way back, a titan was chasing us.” 

“Oh,” he realizes, expression falling. “That… Armin lured it away, it wasn’t all that eventful, so I just…” 

“I assume that scuffle and the rain were the reasons we got separated from the rest, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

And Levi thinks he’ll quite enjoy writing this report, actually. 

He runs a finger through the flame again. 

The weather made sure it wasn’t difficult to get lost, and Eren had just wanted to get Levi to safety. 

He passes a finger through the flame. 

Soldiers stationed at the wagons were nowhere to be found so they’d gotten separated. 

He runs a finger through the flame. 

Eren followed the rules just fine, the dilemma of successfully saving his life was Eren’s only fault. 

He passes a finger through the flame. 

It stings a bit. 

If Erwin took up negotiations, the higher ups wouldn’t give a second glance to the report. 

Eren catches the captain’s hand, stopping its pendulum motion. 

The captain's hand remains stiff, but he doesn’t pull away. 

Eren holds onto two of his fingers, like a child. “So, it’s okay?” he asks, tentative. 

“It’s not about what I—” 

Eren purses his lips. “Can you just- can you answer anyway?” And he waits, but when Levi doesn’t speak, he tries again. “Can you think, maybe…” Eren now wraps both his hands around Levi’s one. “Maybe I’m asking you this, instead of my Captain?” Eren traces the captain's knuckles, clutching the fingers that burn against his palm from the lingering heat of the flame. “Am I allowed to say that?” He doesn’t meet his captain’s eyes. “Are you allowed to answer that?” 

Eren is nervous, Levi realizes. It’s uncharacteristic of him, as of late. He’s being shy. He won’t meet eye-to-eye. He’s usually, while idiotically so, quite shameless, both with words and body language. 

He supposes the nerves are warranted, considering just what he’d asked. 

He shouldn’t answer. Really. 

He pulls his hand from Eren’s grasp and Eren immediately recoils, entwining his hands together so tightly the knuckles go white. 

Levi moves to lie down, wincing away the pain at the movement. He takes his time, meticulously so. It takes a while to comfortably maneuver between the sheets, and when he pulls the blankets up to his stomach he can practically feel the anticipation radiate off Eren in the shape of needles pricking at his head. 

He shouldn’t answer the question, though. 

Brushing the hair out of his eyes, he turns to Eren, finding him staring down at his hands, still. 

The reflection of the orange flame dances in his green eyes. Levi takes the opportunity to place two fingers below his chin, tilting Eren’s gaze to him. Unsurprisingly, Eren’s eyes widen, face heating and visible goosebumps running down his flesh at the touch. 

It lasts only a moment before the captain removes both his hand and his gaze. “Yes,” he says. 

Eren notices the captain’s shifting eyes. He notices the captain thumbing the edge of his blankets. He notices the little movements of his toes beneath the blankets. “Yes to which question?” He notices the pink tint on the shell of his ears. 

The captain meets Eren's eyes once more, but only for a moment, before they shift to the roof, then the candle, then to Eren’s hands now resting in his lap. 

Eren wonders if the captain is cold. 

Levi shouldn’t answer the question. “You brought me back to life, Eren. Which do you think?” 

Eren stares at the captain with wide eyes, as though there would be some kind of answer written on his cheeks, some kind of understanding as to what the captain had meant to convey with such a statement. 

He’d expected no answer at all. He’d expected silence; to be left to his own interpretations. What he’d gotten was less a statement of reassurance and more a declaration. 

And it’s as though the captain doesn’t realize the weight of his own words, what with the nonchalance he’s said them. 

Eren feels it, though; the newly placed weight sitting directly on his heart, threatening to crush it. 

Such a simple statement, one that says the truth in its most literal meaning, yet between the words, what’s written there, in the chaos and disorder, is far from simple. 

“What are you gawking at? Lie down,” the captain huffs, ripping Eren from his thoughts. 

He practically trips over his own feet trying to stand before the captain ushers him back into place, holding him down at the knee. “Stay on this side tonight,” he says. 

Eren usually takes his spot on the captain’s bad side to block the wind, so why he’d be asked to lay on this side is a mystery, but he abides anyway, pulling his pillow over. 

Before he can turn to wrap his arms around the captain, there’s a hand on his chest, and the captain shuffles halfway atop Eren’s torso, leaning over him. 

He blows and the room goes dark. 

The hand doesn’t leave, and the weight on his chest is, in fact, not his ribcage weighing down on his heart, but is the captain’s arms wrapped around him this time. 

The blankets are thrown over the both of them, and the captain shuffles closer, getting more comfortable, he presumes. With eyes adjusted to the dim moonlit room, he dares a peek, ignoring the tickle of the captain’s hair on his collarbone and throat. 

The captain looks unfazed. Content. Perfectly pleased atop Eren. 

Every other time Eren had been his ‘pillow’, it had been a mistake. A secret of the night. A habit not known even to the man himself. He’d move around in his sleep only to end up where he feels most comfortable. 

Eren would move him before he’d awaken. 

This time was entirely purposeful. Unmistakably so. 

So Eren is confused. Rightfully. But he is also warm and pleased with the outcome of the night, so it doesn’t matter. Not at the moment. 

Not when the captain is comfortably asleep. Not with Eren a moment away from the same. 

••• 

The next time Eren is awake, it’s past sunrise, and the teasing look in the big blue eyes staring down at him is entirely uncalled for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please i love this chapter so much i love carla so much u cant tell me eren doesnt think about her way more than canonically portrayed i dont make the rules.
> 
> okay anyway, what did you think ? did you like the way they made up ? i wanted eren to be adamant in that he wasn't sorry, because he truly believed he did the right thing. in that, i can see them finding a certain middle ground with each other, and of course, levi finds a way for them to not get in trouble about it lol. 
> 
> so, i like to think theres moments where levi simply cant help himself. maybe, somewhere in his head, some part of him knows he shouldnt do a certain thing, but he does it anyway because he just sorta wants to. kind of like when he taunted annie in season one when he really didnt need to and got absolutely fucked by that decision lol. so, maybe he shouldnt be letting eren in on the way he feels, but yknow, no ones looking, and he just sorta feels like saying it out loud.
> 
> anyway, i know this chapter was slightly on the shorter side, so i hope it was still a good update for you. as always, let me know what you liked : DD or disliked, i love reading comments and seeing what you think or your predictions or anything really, its the best part of my day.
> 
> thank you all so much for reading my loves, and i hope youre all staying safe and healthy.
> 
> drink some water --leaf


	6. The Smallness of the Ever-Expanding Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight walks, the safety of a hug, and trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my babies : DDD,
> 
> i come bearing gifts. this chapters fucking long, so i hope it makes up for last times slightly shorter one. and ik i say this everytime, but i love this chapter so much.
> 
> so much.
> 
> who graduated on youtube today ? i tuned in thrice; for BTS, Beyonce, and BTS again : D, im not biased i promise. 
> 
> enough of me. enjoy the chapter loves.

Eren leans on his arm at the table as he watches the captain eat. He’s been doing well lately; most of the minor cuts and scratches have healed over and Eren’s stopped bandaging the cut at his jaw entirely now, though he seems to have slight trouble stretching it still. 

Nonetheless, everything’s healing well, so well they’ve been able to bring him to the main room, the fireplace now acting as his heater. Maybe he pissed the captain off with his little stunt, but if he’s healing well, Eren can take a little heat in return. 

At the time, exploring emotions was hardly Eren’s priority, but in hindsight, he’s glad to experience such uncommon and unfamiliar sides to the captain. Perhaps he should be a little more apprehensive, considering the risky situations his growing feelings could drop him in, but more than anything he’s fascinated by the many emotions hidden behind the muffled, grey eyes. He finds the man to be quite charming, if nothing else. And as Eren’s feelings grow from admiration to respect to fondness, he learns how to read those slight indications of the captain’s many emotions. 

How an audible sigh means he’s enjoying his book. How he may sound pissed but furrowed brows means annoyance and a straight face means he’s ready to kick someone in the shins. How he’ll call them by name when pleased. How he’ll remain unmoving, only the curl of his toes representative of pain flaring up. How his eyes shine as they continually glance over to something he wants. How he’ll swear more often when he’s just woken up as opposed to the middle of the night. How his thumb traces back and forth over the lines on his fingers when he’s thinking. How he’ll curl into a ball in the off-chance he feels safe—or tired—enough to sleep deeply. How he’ll lean over a bowl of rice on the floor rather than hold it. 

So many little things has Eren noticed and grown to either tolerate or adore. So many more he’s nervously giddy to discover and revere. 

Though it’s fascinating to see the captain’s many sides, he can’t help the discomfort in witnessing moments of weakness, for it is undetermined whether the captain is vulnerable due to his own choosing, or due to being so distressed he can’t help but show a side he wishes to conceal. That’s one thing Eren hasn’t yet figured out. And putting the captain in more discomfort than necessary is quite low on his priorities. 

Eren’s broken out of his thoughts when he hears Armin trying to reason with a loud captain, whom abruptly rips off his blankets with a passion his chest surely didn’t appreciate, attempting to stand. Eren rushes over, his chair clambering back into place and drowning out the sound of Levi toppling over the empty bowl and mug at his feet. Standing behind the captain, he presses the captain's shoulders down to prevent a second attempt. “What—” 

“I’m going on a walk.” 

“Sir,” Armin says firmly. “It’s still raining, and you can’t walk yet. Please let it go.” 

Eren moves to kneel in front of him once he stops resisting Eren’s hold. “H—" 

“If I have to stare at these brown walls and breathe this suffocating air any longer I’d sooner succumb to my injuries,” he taunts. 

Momentarily speechless, Eren stares at Armin, unsure how to respond. 

“You’re not allowed to disagree.” 

Suddenly surer, Eren looks back at him and tries to compromise. “Let me carry you, then.” Levi narrows his eyes, and Eren freezes in his socks. “I’m not letting you walk around, let alone outside in the rain. Captain, be reasonable,” he tries. 

Levi still says nothing. 

Armin is fascinated by Eren’s ability to look him in the eye when he glares like that. 

More moments of silence pass, and, defeated, Eren breaks eye contact. “Fine, why don’t we stand outside for a bit, then. No walking in the rain, but we can go outside. Okay?” 

And the captain seems to agree, reaching for his socks without protest. 

“I’ll do it,” Eren says. 

So the captain sits obediently as Eren dresses him, and Armin strategically averts his gaze. Eren puts his socks on for him, chuckling that the socks are too stretchy for his small feet. He piles layers on, and Levi lets him do the buttons up after some coaxing—a brush of the hands and a ‘let me’ if you will—before doing up his boots. He wraps him up in his cloak and helps him stand. 

It takes a bit of trial and error, but eventually, the captain’s on his two feet—clinging to Eren and hunched over—but on his two feet. He starts leading him to the door, slow step by slow step, when Levi pinches him. “Hey—” 

“Armin,” the captain calls. “Come here.” 

Letting go of Eren, the captain wraps an arm around Armin’s shoulders, using him for support instead. “Your height is irritating.” 

Eren watches, slightly dumbfounded as Levi makes his way to the doorway, Armin in tow. He notices Armin hide a laugh behind his hand, avoiding Eren’s gaze. It takes a moment for him to get over himself before opening the door for them. 

They stand under the roof’s ledge. 

The clouds are so thick one could hardly tell whether ‘twas day or night, and the wind blows the rain past their measly attempt at shelter, providing quite the chill in contrast to the humidity. 

But to the one who hasn’t gone outside every other day to feed the horses and breathe fresh air, to the one who’s been bed-ridden, sickly, and holed up in a stuffy little cabin, it feels just fine. He could do without the mud sticking to his boots, but it’s not intolerable. 

They stay out as long as it takes the clouds to layer up in the far west, criminally content with hiding the oranges and pinks of the sunset. The storm quiets a considerable amount too, and the winds change direction. 

Eren leans back against the wall, glancing at his captain. He’s standing on his own now, and the wind blows at the hair tickling his closed eyelids. It’s quite the scene, and the tranquil aura of his puts a smile on Eren’s face. 

And once the night settles in and the chilly winds go cold, they return to the warmth of their temporary home, and, finishing his mending of the fire, Eren takes his place beside a slumbering Levi. 

••• 

A sudden thud interrupts the calm crackle of the fireplace, disturbing Eren out of his light sleep. His eyelids feel like lead and the light from the fireplace in the otherwise dark room makes it painful to adjust. He makes out chair legs first, then his eyes shift to a figure slumped next to them. “Captain…” 

“Go back to sleep.” 

“Captain. What are you doing?” 

The captain supplies a short ‘nothing’ as he uses the chair to stand, pushing on it to support his legs. Ultimately, he buckles, only catching himself by clutching the chair. At this, Eren startles awake, rushing to the captain’s side before he can fall for what he assumes is the second time. 

“What are you doing,” he yells mutedly. “You can’t be moving around like that on your own.” 

“I’m going outside, it’s not raining anymore.” Twisting about, Levi attempts to shake off the pair of arms wrapped around his torso. “I don’t need your help to walk around.” 

“Seeing as you couldn’t accomplish the impossible task of standing, even with the help of a chair, I think you do,” Eren replies curtly, tightening his grip on the shorter man. He guides Levi to the kitchenette where he leans against the counter-top. 

“Watch your tone.” 

“No. You can order me to your will all you want but this time, you said you’d listen to me, and I didn’t say you could wake up in the middle of the night and go beyond your physical limits without supervision.” 

“I don’t give a shit about your ‘physical limits’, and I’m not so weak I need supervision.” 

“Yes, you are.” Tension accumulates in the air as Eren raises his voice. 

“I’m not. This is pathetic. I have to dawdle around like a limp piece of bread waiting for you to come pick me up and coddle me just to take a damn step outside.” His knuckles go white where they grasp at the wood behind him. “I can’t even sit up on my own, I have to lean against you while getting fed like a baby. I’m not so weak that a wound like this—” 

“A wound ‘like this’ is serious. Really serious. You almost died in that wagon, mere minutes from it. You’re telling me I sewed you up while at deaths door myself for you rip the thing open on week four?” He scoffs. “You already tried that two weeks ago.” 

“Watch what you say to me,” Levi says. His anger isn’t evident by any observable means, but his dangerously low tone of voice, and piercing gaze staring into wide, green eyes, bold and unwavering, makes it crystal clear he’s about three seconds away from kicking Eren in the shins with any strength he can muster. 

Not that it matters. 

“Before that, you’re pissing me off. Do you think I think you’re weak? Do you think I’m coddling you because I think you can’t handle your injuries? Don’t be absurd. I’m not sure about you, Captain, but to me, your life is more important than listening to you, and if I’ll be punished for it then so be it, but I ask in return that you be impeccable because this bullshit is getting on my nerves.” 

The captain stares him down, and for a moment he wonders if he’s really going to be punished for his behaviour later—because technically, what the captain says, goes, even if it kills the man—or perhaps killed by an injured soldier momentarily. He glances over to Armin, relieved to find him asleep amid the commotion. 

And Levi blinks. 

He closes his eyes. 

He brushes away the hair tickling at his eyelids. 

“Take me on a walk,” he says. 

Surprised, Eren’s hard-set expression falls and he lets out a breath, unable to hold back a smile—a small one, but a smile nonetheless. 

Dare he say the captain’s response was endearing. 

“Alright, let’s go on a walk.” 

••• 

For the second time that day, he helps the captain into his boots and wraps his cloak around him. He wanted to button up the layers of clothing he gives Levi, but eventually let him do it himself after being pinched multiple times—in multiple places—in retaliation. He then dresses himself, pulling up hood of his cloak for himself and his captain alike. He doesn’t let his mind wander to why the captain didn’t slap his hands away. 

Opening the door as little as possible, Eren wraps an arm around the shorter man as they take a step outside. He hisses at the sudden cold finding its way up their clothing, biting at the bare skin. They go slowly to let their bodies adjust, to let the captain set a pace. 

“Not too far, I don’t want to risk it. And we shouldn’t leave Armin alone for long,” Eren says. 

“Hm.” 

They take heavy steps, mud from the soaking forest floor sticking to their boots. Evidently, Levi grumbles about how annoyingly tall Eren is along the way. He bites back a smile in response. 

Eren supposes he should have brought a lantern, for any moonlight shining past the thick storm clouds is blocked by the forest roof, painting the sky black. The limited visibility makes Eren endlessly grateful for the uneven but mostly hazard-free pathway they walked upon. 

Levi ceases his steps. “Eren.” 

“What is it?” 

“Hand me that,” he says, with the point of a finger. 

Confused but compliant, Eren hands him the fallen branch just off the path beside him. The captain leans on it to use as a cane and slips his arm away from Eren’s shoulders, who keeps a careful eye—he is prepared to catch the captain should he fall, but Levi, ever the strong-willed, capable man, goes on well. 

The night is as silent as it is dark, save for the captain’s shuffling footsteps. Eren’s steps are silent as they should be, and the difference in sound is jarring to Eren’s ears. 

After all this time—the painful nights awake nursing fevers, the anxiety-filled bandage changes, the trouble of getting him to sit up to eat, the nights spent with his arms wrapped around the other to keep his wounded body warm—it finally hits Eren while they walk along this path in the dead of night listening to shuffling footsteps, that the captain is lethally injured. 

He’s so injured he can’t lift his own feet high enough off the ground to be silent. So injured that in order to do a basic task such as walking, he uses a cane, makes noise and inevitably makes himself a target. 

Eren can’t imagine how it feels to be a recovering patient—all his own injuries heal within hours, usually while he rests, thus he has never felt the long running consequences of life-threatening injuries. 

Eren suddenly wonders if he’d been too hard on the captain. Pondering their previous argument, he notes that the captain talked a fair amount—quite a lot more than usual. He bickered and was irate. While the captain annoyed is no new spectacle, excessive discussion was rare for he was often a man of silence. To quarrel so openly with Eren, he realizes again how odd and uncomfortable a situation the captain must be in to act so uncharacteristically. 

He wonders how shitty the captain must have felt being unable to sit up himself, to even feed himself, whilst in a state of perpetual pain. Wanting to accomplish simple tasks alone must be a mental hurdle, he thinks, something to remind the wounded they’re still whole, still capable. 

Something worth Levi arguing his way to achieve. 

Eren suddenly feels a lot better about him walking. 

He’s sure his captain is in immense pain, but he’s also sure the pain is worth it. 

He hears a scuffle louder than usual and turns to discover the captain grasping at a tree, moments from falling. “Are you alright?” 

“Hm.” 

It’s only until he nears the captain that Eren notices him shivering, the tips of his fingers pink and trembling. Hesitantly, Eren takes his free hand in both of his own warmer ones, biting the inside of his cheek at the colder touch. “We should head back now.” The captain’s hand is rough. 

“I don’t want to, let’s go a bit further.” Levi pulls his hand back, adjusting his cloak. 

“You’re at your limit and you’re cold, it’s best to stop now,” he says in moot, seeing as the captain makes no motion to go back and continues to shiver under his hood. 

Eren unbuttons his own cloak and pulls it off, ignoring the immediate chill that runs both up his sleeves and down his spine. He moves to wrap it around the captain when his hands get smacked away with a strength he presumed to be more than Levi could handle at the moment. 

Apparently not. 

“What the hell are you doing? You’ll freeze your ass off out here without that.” He pushes off the tree to face Eren. “Put it back on.” 

“But you’re shivering, and you refuse to go back.” Despite his own words, Eren complies to the captain’s order immediately. 

“I’ll shiver all I want, you keep that on.” 

And something about Levi trembling like a fish out of water and saying ‘I’ll shiver all I want’ so resolutely has Eren chuckling. Levi uses his cold fingers to pinch Eren at the waist in return, with a click on the end of his tongue and an ‘ow’ between Eren’s lips. 

Perhaps the sudden lighthearted atmosphere gives him the courage. 

Leaning back against the tree, Eren takes the captain’s hand once again and pulls him into his chest. His arms make their way around smaller shoulders and lock into place, wrapping his own cloak around the captain in a shameless hug. 

Eren is both surprised and unsurprised when he feels no resistance to the action, but also feels the man standing stiff as a rock—his hands are pressed against Eren’s chest as if to shield himself from the embrace. 

While it’s quite an endearing sight, being a rock is unideal. Eren tightens his hold ever so slightly, wondering how he can make the captain feel at ease, if even possible—after all, the only times he’s seen the captain engage in physical contact is when he hits someone or around Hange, whom he assumes has had no sense of boundary since the two met anyway. 

When Eren thinks of comforting physical contact, he thinks of his mother—the mother who’s lap he used to lay in, who’s arms embraced him dearly, who’s hands provided nothing but security. And on nights where Eren couldn’t fall asleep, his mother would kneel beside him and run a hand down his back until he lay in slumber, whether it took minutes or hours. Following those nights, he would often awake to her asleep next to him, a hand still resting upon his back. 

So, Eren begins to run a hand down Levi’s back, so lightly it tingles, so gently the hair at Levi’s neck stands, and shivers dance their way from head to toe. And the captain tenses. Eren thinks he’s overstepped his boundaries this time, though still he persists. He runs a hand down the captain’s back, then up again and down again and up again and oh so slowly, little by little, he feels him relax. 

First, his shoulders loosen, and fingers brush over the bumps of his spine. Then, his hands no longer lay tense against Eren’s chest but clutch at his waist, and nails graze by his shoulder-blade. Levi takes the tiniest step forward. And Eren once again locks his hands around the captain. 

Eren looks up between the winding branches and wandering leaves of the treetops, finding the bright clouds behind which the moon lies. 

His eyes flutter shut. 

He feels the captain lean his forehead onto his shoulder and, for once, doesn’t giggle when he remembers it’s the highest his head reaches, instead rests his chin atop the other’s head. 

To Eren, Levi had never seemed so small before. It comes as no surprise that the captain is short, but he never feels small. He always stands tall with shoulders broad and square, his voice is loud and commanding when it needs to be and rough and full when conversing, his eyes are a striking grey with a gaze nothing short of piercing, and he is immeasurably strong, one hand packing more punch than two kicks from a man double his size. Everything about him is big, powerful, strong and tall. Everything but his size. 

And at this moment, no longer is he strong and tall, for he is vulnerable. 

He is small. 

His head is down, tucked, and little. His shoulders are slumped and slender between Eren’s arms. He’s quiet—so quiet Eren can barely hear him breathe, only feel the exhales on his chest. With nothing to fight, no energy to fight, and no reason to be alert, his muscles and body are relaxed and pliant. His palms are gentle where they rest at Eren’s waist with no sign of the brute strength these hands supposedly harbour, only the weak tug where his fingers grasp at Eren’s shirt, only the pads of his small thumbs pressing at Eren’s stomach. His eyes are no longer focused and blazing, but staring calmly at the ground, eyelids fluttering about. 

He wonders if this is what Levi would always feel like, should they live a different life. Would he act as small as he is? Would he still sound so powerful and commanding? Perhaps his voice would take on a different colour—one that isn’t rough around the edges after years of screaming, one that resembles a tea shop owner rather than a soldier. Maybe his hands would be soft and smooth instead of thin and worn from years of grasping at the triggers of his gear. Maybe, just maybe, he would be looking up at Eren sooner than he tucks his head away at his chest. But here, in this life, he is immeasurable power bearing immeasurable sorrow locked into his own skin. 

He is small. 

Eren tightens his hold. “Stay like this. We can keep going when you… when you’re warm enough.” 

“Hm.” 

••• 

They come tumbling through the door, jumping when it crashes shut from the harsh winds behind them. Just moments before Eren were to break his hold, the clouds let loose, unforgiving and relentless against the two insignificantly small bodies caught in the crossfire. They managed to return quicker than when they left, barreling in the door with wet boots and dripping cloaks. 

Eren pulls off his cloak with one hand, helping the captain to his makeshift bed with care and undressing him. Thankfully, they weren’t out for long and the cloaks caught most of the downpour, leaving their hair and inner layers quite dry. 

Once Eren has the captain down to bare feet and dry clothing, he wraps every stray blanket in the room over his head and around him in attempt to stop his shivering. 

Levi sits slouched with his head down and legs crossed, unmoving due to the residual pain from getting back so quickly. He burrows into himself, burying his cold feet under his thighs and hugging the layers of blankets closer to his chest. His ears are so cold it roots a headache and his fingers feel too numb to get a proper grasp on the blankets. The fireplace doesn’t do much with the distance between them, and he couldn’t get to it without Eren picking him up and plopping him there himself. 

Quite pathetic, he thinks. 

So, he focuses on these things—on his ears and feet and fingers—because the worst of the pain resides at his stomach, where the slightest movement feels as though he were still being sliced open, where simply breathing stings his chest. 

The pain is so unbearable he wants to scream, but he bites his tongue and focuses on his cold ears and weak fingers and thinks about the countless men and women who have endured far more pain only for it to end in death, whilst he gets another chance at life. 

Eren has busied himself with laying their clothes out to dry when he hears the captain mutter something unintelligible. Crossing the room, he crouches down before him, placing a gentle hand on his head. “I’m here,” he says, brushing a thumb back and forth. “Were you saying something?” 

“It’s cold.” 

Eren bites his lip. “We have no more blankets.” He looks around one last time anyway; their cloaks are out of commission for the moment, and Armin sleeps with nothing but his own. “I’m sorry.” 

He continues tracing circles on the captain’s head, and the fire crackles. “I can move you closer to the fireplace, if that’s alright,” he suggests. 

“No.” 

“Alright,” he says after a moment, moving to stand behind Levi. “Then, tell me if I cause any pain.” He sits behind the small huddle, stretching his legs out so Levi’s crossed ones rest atop his thighs. He leans forward until his chest meets Levi’s back, resting his chin on a shoulder and bringing his arms around the captain, who still tenses when Eren holds him. 

But they sit like this for a while. 

With every crackle of the fire, a little more wood burns, and a little more ash falls to the bottom—the fireplace goes dimmer and dimmer. Armin shifts a couple times in his slumber, first to the right, then the left, and finally settles with his chest down. Eren’s legs fall asleep too, the buzzing feeling starting at his toes and moving up, before going numb and heavy. There’s a muffled thump from the wall to their right, and it seems a bird has bumped into the boards, presumably due to its limited sight and flying after any light or shelter. 

And by the time the wind has gone from howling and beating against the door to a calm hush sweeping by, Levi has gone pliant. 

He’s leaned back into Eren, significantly warmer, hands no longer numb and ears comfortably cold. The pain is still present as ever, but he’s gotten used to the constant hum. His eyes have fluttered shut somewhere along the way, pleased with the familiar warmth—familiar smell—that comes with Eren’s hold. 

His legs start to go numb from sitting cross legged so lengthily, so, biting his lip, he shifts about in Eren’s arms and leans sideways into his chest, legs strewn about over Eren’s thigh. The blankets slip off his head in the motion, hair now tickling Eren’s throat. 

And he breaks the tranquil spell. “Thank you.” 

Eren practically chokes on air. “What?” 

“I said thank you, pay attention.” 

“I- wait, no,” he stutters. “You don’t have to—" 

“I do.” 

“You really don’t, Captain,” Eren says, feeling undeserving of gratitude from non-other than he. He’s done only what’s right, what anyone should have done—not to mention he’s been quite self-indulgent, too. 

“Eren, you were the one who argued with me about this,” Levi begins. “Had I been conscious, I would have forced you to leave but like the idiot you are, you risked our only titan ally to save a soldier stupid enough to get sliced open by his own blade. It deserves gratitude.” 

That, and all the other bullshit Eren’s done for him. 

The stupid things that he won’t say out loud, like cleaning the room every day, or doing laundry every day, giving him makeshift baths every other day, running fingers through his hair until he falls asleep, or taking him on walks during the witching hour. Behaviours that have no justification in their grim and tiresome situation, Eren does anyway, for no other reason but his comfort. And it works. For that does Eren deserve at least a thank you. “Gratitude I didn’t give you before,” he adds quietly. 

“Then,” Eren says, bashful, with a smile spread wide across his lips. “I should be glad you were unconscious. Besides, you’ve saved my ass so many times and no doubt you’ll do it again, it’s about time I return the favour.” 

“You’ve never said anything more correct.” 

Eren pretends he didn’t hear that. “You know, if you… die, there would be no one capable of killing me if I happen to ‘betray’ humanity, I’d be taken away and locked up like some dog,” he supposes with a scoff. “If you die, I’d sooner die with you.” 

The captain huffs, and Eren swears it was a laugh. “Lies. Just storm Sina and eat the king,” he says. “Erwin will handle the rest of the politics.” 

“Is this where I become grateful Commander Erwin makes our procedures and not you?” 

“Are you not scared of me anymore, Eren?” 

Perhaps, when using one as a pillow, there should be no words of threat said for on instinct Eren has tensed and Levi no longer gets a pliable pillow encasing him, but a brick wall. 

“I…” It’s inconclusive, whether Levi is inherently ‘scary’, though he is intimidating indeed. Whether that intimidation always works on Eren or not is debatable, and he thinks that seeing him vulnerable and calm rather than powerful and alert has made him want to take care of the captain, in a sense. 

In his vulnerability has the captain shown many-a formidable sight to Eren—bits and pieces yet unseen. And in this Levi, the one who is not a soldier on the field, but a human, in this Levi does Eren indulge in. 

Except, this is one of the times he’s feeling the intimidation. 

Sighing, Levi shifts about. “I couldn’t hit you even if I wanted to, so stop being tense, it’s uncomfortable,” he complains. 

Eren leans back onto his hands, going slack once again, reassured by his tone. “Maybe not hit,” he muses. “But I’m sure I have bruises from all your pinching.” 

“Stop complaining.” Levi feels around for his waist— “You’re bothersome so you get pinched.”—and pinches, ignoring Eren’s noisy ‘ow’s and ‘stop that’s until content with his work. A colourful bruise tomorrow would be quite entertaining. 

“You don’t pinch Armin,” Eren whines. 

“Armin’s not bothersome.” 

Eren scoffs, uncurling after the pain subsides. There’s the slightest upturn of his lips—he’s annoyed, in slight pain, and maybe a bit offended, but he thinks the captain is having what one would gamble is a pleasant, amusing conversation with him. Like friends. They seem like friends, and perhaps Eren has the cheek to think that they really are, by now. So, unknown to the man curled up in his lap, Eren smiles. 

Moments pass in silence for the second time. Out in the forest, every puddle in the grass gets a little fuller, and worms come to the surface to escape drowning. 

Leaves at the forest top are a slide for water drops that flow down tiers upon tiers upon tiers of greenery, and just when the roots think their thirst may be further quenched bushes and plants on the ground catch the water first. Again, do droplets fall leaf by leaf, sliding down their shiny coats and cleaning them of rubbish before falling to the mud. 

Elsewhere in the deep woods lays a cat, frightened and yelping for no one to hear when thunder roars and the tom, white coat dirtied in muck and filth, continues shivering inside a bush. 

Somewhere is a vixen and her pups laying under the shelter of a large gathering of roots from an overgrown tree—a tree more massive and wide than any other, that has survived deforestation and forest fires and titan attacks. 

Out there are birds that have long ceased flight, droplets beating against wings too tired to endure, who lay in their nests and under bushels of leaves for protection. 

And Eren sits through the silence, endeared by the soft inhales and exhales he feels at his chest, by the rise and fall of shoulders with every breath, by the delicate hand giving him a tickle at the waist, by the bony shoulder digging into his chest, by the cold feet buried under his thigh in search of warmth. 

By the black hair, messy and smelling of rainwater. 

Eren runs his fingers through the tangled tufts so they settle back in their natural directions. The hair part falls uneven, so Eren takes his time pulling strands back and forth so they lay as usual. A quiet ‘stop that’ is said as he plays, but he’s enjoying himself, so he pretends the rain is too loud and continues. He’s almost done when a hand grabs his wrist, startling him with its speed and precision. “What-” 

“Which part of stop did you not understand?” 

“I was fixing it. Besides, you like when I do that,” Eren argues, guilty but justified. 

“I don’t want to fall asleep right now. If you kept going I would have surely.” Levi doesn’t mention that Eren’s steady heartbeat under his ear and the warmth of his body surrounding him was lulling him to a slumber already, nor does he deny that he likes when Eren does ‘that’. And doing that was pushing it. 

Eren clicks his tongue. “Don’t be stingy. Why not sleep here? It’s fine.” 

Annoyed to leave the warm cocoon, Levi sighs, rubbing his eyes awake as he sits up. 

Eren suppresses a hiss when the captain digs a palm into his thigh for support, and Levi either makes no notice, or contentedly ignores it whilst doing the same to his other thigh. 

Wincing, Levi shifts, bit by bit, until he sits cross legged and facing Eren. “You remind me of this idiot I knew in the underground.” 

Eren’s arms pause midair where they were initially wrapping around the captain, surprised at the turn of the conversation. “An… idiot?” he sputters. 

“Her hair was red, and she had this awful haircut…” Levi continues, unfazed—as if it were as normal as bees making honey for him to speak of his personal life. With a bite of the lip, he rests his arms at Eren’s shoulders, pulling his hair into two tufts near the neck. “Like this, just longer. I threatened to cut them off myself, longer hair is a hazard anyway, but the stubborn brat fought me for it.” 

Eren listens intently, fascinated that the captain was sharing such a thing—anything at all. He ignores the goosebumps running down his arms at the captain’s touch and locks his hands around the captain’s back. “She your friend?” 

“Hm. She was.” He loses grip on Eren’s hair. 

‘Was’, Eren notes. Perhaps she’s dead, perhaps Levi left her behind in the underground. He doesn’t ask. “Why do I remind you of her?” 

Levi removes his arms, leaning back on them—back into Eren’s arms—as he shakes his hair out of his eyes. “Similar persistence. The type where it’s both infuriating and impressive.” 

Eren takes that as a compliment. “I guess redheads are immune to your intimidation, huh,” he teases. It’s quite strange seeing the captain so casual. He’s been wearing less than professional clothing all along, but the low-cut shirt, the informal posture, the relaxed gaze—it’s charming, really. 

“Hange’s not ‘immune’, she’s insane,” Levi says, perfectly candid. 

An awkward pause befalls them when Eren finds nothing to say and Levi continues looking at him. It doesn’t seem like the captain expects any response, but being stared at isn’t Eren’s forte despite how often he blissfully indulges in gawking at the captain himself. He glances about, from Levi’s pink knuckles to his exposed collarbones to the hand tucking black hair behind a small ear. “Is…” he starts, undesiring for the conversation to end. “Is there anything else?” 

“Plenty, I won’t be bothered listing them.” Levi stares for a moment, into Eren’s similarly green eyes. “There’s a glaring difference between you two, though.” 

“What is it?” 

“You’re alive.” 

Eren’s hands fall. “Captain,” he says firmly, leaning forward. 

“Captain,” he repeats. 

“Captain Levi,” he tries. 

“What?” 

“You say that like you killed her.” 

“I did.” 

“How? You mean to say you ate her?” 

“I left them alone on our first mission outside the walls.” 

“You can’t take responsibility for—” 

“Who are you to tell me what I should be taking responsibility for? You and your two months of experience,” he says, scoffing. 

“You can’t be everywhere at once. You can’t take care of everyone. You may be our strongest soldier but you’re human, aren’t you?” And no human may bear the burden of thousands upon thousands of deaths and stay sane. Perhaps such is why Hange is supposedly not. 

“Who takes responsibility if not the captain? You follow my command.” 

“I know someone has to take responsibility, alright,” Eren begins, frustrated at the captain’s train of thought. “But that someone isn’t you, it’s whoever took our freedom. Whoever made those mindless titans. It’s their fault and their fault only.” 

Levi stares at him again, at his green eyes blazing with passion and hate and sympathy alike. He clicks his tongue, looking away. “Says the brat who blames himself for my old squads’ deaths.” 

“That…” Eren mumbles, former confidence fading. 

“I’d call you a hypocrite, but she’s human.” 

Eren looks down, tracing the folds of Levi’s shirt with his eyes, when he smiles. Smiles because Levi acknowledged at least some of what he said. Smiles because it helps hide the dreadful guilt gnawing at his stomach at their mention. “If I’d transformed earlier, that wouldn’t have happened,” he admits. “It’s undoubtedly my fault.” 

“You have the staggering intellect to come to that conclusion, but not the brains—” Levi flicks his forehead. “—to recognize that if I’d taken her down myself, that wouldn’t have happened.” 

“But—” 

“There’s no ‘but’ Eren, I told you then, you will never know if your decision is right or wrong, you just make a choice and live with it.” He rubs the pad of his thumb at the area reddened by his flick, just for a moment. “That day, we all made a choice, and what happened, happened. That’s all there is.” 

“You also said to make the choice you’d regret least,” Eren points out, sad smile disappearing. “I regret my choice.” 

“You regret trusting me and my squad? The people you were told would protect you. Do you really regret that? Truly?” 

Eren can’t agree nor can he find it in himself to disagree, for the captain’s words are far from untrue. He regrets not fighting but he does not regret believing in his comrades—at the least he'd never regret trusting the captain. He understands he must live with his choice, for there was nothing else he could have done in the moment. 

The captain’s words may be the only sure, real advice that will always be worth following, regardless of the situation. And he can do nothing but hope the captain takes his own words to heart and forgives himself for all the death he’s been cursed to live through. "I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize to me, idiot. Grovel at their graves and maybe they’ll forgive you from oblivion,” he says. 

“Not that, I’m sorry you lost your friend.” 

Levi pauses. “There was another.” 

And Eren perfectly crumbles. “Right,” he realizes. The captain said he left ‘them’ alone on their first mission. “Right.” He rests his head on Levi’s shoulder, staring down at his hands rested in Levi’s lap. He closes his eyes, trying to shake away the crack settling in his heart. “What…what were their names?” he asks, pulling and playing with the front of Levi’s shirt, like a lost child. 

“Isabel, you remind me of her. And Farlan.” Where his temple meets Levi’s throat he can feel the vibrations of the words, prominent with Levi’s distinctively low voice. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. When the captain shifts, he opens his eyes, noticing an arm moving from its place of support behind Levi. 

A moment later he feels it in his hair, sending goosebumps down his arms and chest. 

It’s gone as quick as it arrived, as if Levi regretted the touch. He hears the captain sigh, then, lifting the shoulder Eren rests on to get him up. 

And when his eyes meet Levi’s again, hands back in his own lap, the man breaks character even further. 

“Tell me something,” he says. 

“Huh?” 

“This is miserable. My days are full of theft and death and murder. I’m sure you have better stories, considering your friends are alive.” 

“Are you…” The barest of hints of a smile paint Eren’s lips for the second time that night. It seems conversing with Levi fosters a whirlwind of emotions all at once, for now his heart beats not in pain, but excitement. “Are you asking me about my childhood?” 

Levi narrows his eyes. 

“Don’t get annoyed, wait, I’m—” he stutters, with various hand movements to accompany his giddiness. “I’m just excited okay.” 

“Right, so shut up and get talking before I pretend I never asked.” 

So he does. Eren tells him all kinds of little fables from his childhood. He tells him about his father’s line of work and goes off on a tangent about the basement. He tells him about his mother and her sewing skills and how he always ran off during his chores to do other things only to arrive home late with chores undone. 

At some point his legs fall asleep so they shift back to how they began this moment: with Eren curled around Levi, chest against his back and legs tangled together. And Eren continues on and on and on, whispering tales so quietly, so closely his lips brush Levi’s ear. 

He talks about how he met Mikasa and Armin, and how many times they ran from the military police with Armin’s forbidden books. He talks about their stupid bullies and admits Mikasa may have saved them every time when Levi shoots him an unimpressed look. He talks about his fascination with the outside world growing up, and how he used to childishly admire Levi, ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’, each time he saw the survey corps off and arrival. 

And to this, with his back to Eren, Levi smiles. 

He talks about the day his mother died. 

To this, Levi finds Eren’s arms and wraps them around his middle, bearing the ache when Eren squeezes him a little too tight recounting the memory. 

Somewhere along the way, they’ve gone horizontal under the many blankets. Eren’s body acts as Levi’s mattress and his chest a pillow while he gushes, and the atmosphere shifts the longer they lie. Eren’s fallen to a murmur now, loud enough for Levi to hear but too quiet for the floorboards to eavesdrop. 

He talks about Armin’s dream; his dream of seeing the ocean and lakes of fire and fields of sands as far as the eye can see—how that allure of outside the walls, that desire to be free from inside the walls was Eren’s own first motivation for joining the survey corps. He tells the story of how he once cried that there were no trees in the forest tall enough to see over the walls. And more. So many more. 

And as the sun rises behind thick clouds, abandoned behind the settled storm gone unnoticed, the captain falls to a deep slumber, and Eren arises to start the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : DDDDDD, 
> 
> isnt it great ???? i love this chapter so much you guys please its literally the best look at it look at all the mOMents : (((,
> 
> id like to ask, do any of you actually like reading my commentaries about the writing process in the end notes ? i know they get pretty long, so if no ones interested id rather just not have that wall of text lol, but if you like reading my thoughts, trust me i love giving them, so let me know in the comments : DD.
> 
> for now ill say some things though. i think its obvious, levi being short is both hilarious and endearing as fuck, and ill be damned if eren doesnt find it one of his favourite attributes. hes short and hes powerful and bad at communication and hes so, so fun to hug the taller eren gets and its my shit. also ive never considered writing aus for them, but if we ever had a tea shop au, i wonder if id change his physical attributes, like thick and rough skin, and trade them for things that are more form fitting for a thirty year old in the modern world.
> 
> as for eren, my man, he himself cant believe levi trusts him enough to tell him certain things, wowie look at that. i think i like the idea of eren slowly falling for levis shitty personality while simultaneously being happy that theyre becoming friends. it seems like a very him thing to do - to love without demands. 
> 
> okay thats enough, anyway, let me know what you thought about their interactions this time. i have to say, i dont think levi would be the type of person to actively hide his old life, its just that it doesnt come up often, so here he just decides, fuck it, i wanna tell eren, so he does. idk, you think it works ? i love reading your thoughts, so dont hesitate. 
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading my loves. to new readers and people who keep coming back, youre all the best, i hope youre all staying safe and healthy.
> 
> sing when youre happy --leaf


	7. Playing by the House of Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upset, failure, and a precious soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahhahahahaha hi : DDDDD,
> 
> IM SORRY JFAIOW;ELKFJ IM LATE I KNOW i kno wi knwo i nwko i vowed i wouldnt be late but guess what the fuck i couldnt fucking think of a chapter title it was killing me i hate my shit i cant believe i did this to yall im sorRY YOU HAD TO WIATOWIALFKSD
> 
> anyway, i like the title now.
> 
> this chapters a bit short since the last was pretty long, but since im late, ill upload the next chapter earlier because i need to make it up to yall. ill never be late again i stake it on my love for BTS and that shits forever unchanging i promise. 
> 
> okay, enjoy the chapter my loves : DD.

“I don’t usually care, but seeing as we’re stuck here, I personally wouldn’t act like you.” 

Armin looks up from where he’s brushing the horse, trying his best to keep his expression neutral when he spots the owner of the voice in the dim sunset light. He swallows the dread building in this throat, and watches the captain brush off the hay and dirt on a crate before taking a seat with a quiet grunt. He sits up straight, shoulders pushed back and one leg crossed over the other, and the image of a pale man shivering and fighting a fever has suddenly vanished from Armin’s memory. 

A mere second later, the captain’s harsh gaze sets on him, and Armin quickly looks away, pretending to be focused on the brushing the horse. “Uhm,” he begins weakly. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir.” 

“You have something to say to me. Say it.” 

Armin pauses—more surprised that he was caught than fearful of the captain’s blunt words—before continuing his robotic motions more to keep himself calm than anything else. Logically, he knows nothing will come of what he wishes to say; the captain couldn’t care less, as he so obviously stated walking up to him. It doesn’t make it easier to begin talking, nonetheless. “You’re upset with me because I couldn’t stop Eren,” he mumbles to the horse. 

“That’s right.” 

Armin can’t help but turn to him, then, a little bit irritated at how easily he admitted it, though, he’s not sure just what else he expected. The captain’s hard expression remains unchanged, and, unwilling to let his own irritation be known to the captain, he turns away. “You say you forgave him, but you’re still upset with me.” 

“My forgiveness is meaningless in this situation. In my absence, it was your job to stop him.” 

Armin bites his lip. “You’re speaking as if I didn’t try,” he says firmly, though lacking confidence. 

“Did you?” 

“Of course I did. And of course, it didn’t work.” 

“If you tried your best, as I assume you think you did, why did he leave?” 

‘If I didn’t know any better, I'd think you’ve never met Eren,’ is what Armin wants to say, but he knows his place and is watching his words. It seems the captain isn’t doing the same. “He left because he doesn’t give a damn about what anyone says.” 

“Not even you? From what I hear, he readily puts his life in your hands.” 

“He does, but in the moment, I was the person speaking against your life. Do you think he’d listen to me?” A hint of annoyance seeps into his voice, but with the brush in his hand now static and his gaze overflowing with irritation and upset fixated on captain, he can’t bring himself to care. 

“He doesn’t need to listen to you. He just needs to do what you want.” 

“How do you propose I make him do what I want if he doesn’t listen to me?” 

“Tell him you’ll kill me yourself if he steps foot outside the cabin. Cut his legs off. Knock him out. Smash in his jaw so he can’t transform. Would you like more evidence of your failure?” 

With each idea the captain proposes, Armin’s hand tightens around the horse’s hair. “I’m not a violent person, Sir.” 

“Of that, I’m more than aware.” 

It’s not disappointment in his voice, Armin realizes, but acceptance. The thought confuses him. “Then you must know, there’s nothing more I could have done to stop him.” 

“There was. You chose not to.” 

“I’m sure you don’t care, Sir, but unlike Mikasa, I quite like you. That day at the trial, you saved Eren, and since then, when it comes to him, you’ve done nothing but protect. In contrast,” he mumbles, angry hands now loosening his grip, and his arms fall to his sides. “In contrast, I come up with plans that put the weight of humanity on his shoulders. So forgive me, but I would like if you lived. At the cost of potentially Eren’s life, I chose yours.” 

“You chose wrong.” 

Lowering his guilt-ridden expression to the ground, a bitter smile paints Armin’s features. “We’re all alive now, though, so isn’t my failure quite obsolete?” 

“That’s right. Apparently, all that’s left is my own pathetic inability to mask my anger with you.” 

“We’re all alive, but I made a choice that could have cost Eren his life.” What Armin doesn’t say is that half his reason was something along the lines of ‘Eren would have been broken beyond repair if the captain died, so why not try and save the man?’ but he doesn’t think that would fare well in the conversation. 

“You can live with that.” 

“I can, but you can’t,” Armin replies, voice colder than the air nipping at his ears. Despite the confidence in his voice, his eyes roam aimlessly along the ground, squinting in the growing darkness to memorize the cracks in the cobblestone and map the patches of unkempt grass growing happily between the stones. 

“He’s valuable.” 

“Yeah. It really bugs you that the Corps' precious titan soldier could have died, right?” 

“That’s right.” 

Armin has to physically cover his mouth to hold back a scoff. His hands begin to tremble—from anger or grief, he can’t seem to tell. He turns back to the horse, brushing with one hand and gripping some hair tight in the other to hide his shaking arms. “He was eaten once, right before my eyes,” he says. “I’m sure you read the report. He saved me, and for half a day, I lived with the grief of Eren’s death.” 

“For half a day.” The captain crosses the other leg over the first. “How wonderful.” 

Glancing at the captain then, Armin sees something akin to a morbid amusement in his eyes. “He was my first friend, and my best friend since we were kids,” he recounts, tearing his gaze away from the captain when his eyes begin to feel warm. “I hope I die first. I never want to feel that grief again. Do you know how difficult it was for me to let him go?” 

“I can imagine.” 

His grip on the brush tightens at the unexpected words, and upon hearing them does a tightness settle in his throat, and the first hot tear tickles his cold cheek. “To you he’s just some soldier,” he says, betraying his words to Eren. “He’s your tool, he’s ‘humanity’s hope’ or your token titan or bait in a plan. Of course you can’t let him die.” He doesn’t bother wiping his eyes. “But he’s...” He sniffles. “He’s my friend. For you, him dying would just be more lost potential, but for me it’s...” 

He shuts his eyes tight, as if it would block all the unnecessary thoughts threatening to resurface. His toes curl in his boots and the horse’s warm hair comforts his hands as they slide down, once again coming to rest at his side. Defeat weighs down his shoulders. “If you want to believe I didn’t try my best, feel free, Sir, I can’t exactly change your mind.” He finally wipes at his eyes, pushing away his bangs. “But I had my reasons to concede. Sorry my decision could have compromised your precious soldier.” 

Picking himself up, Armin swallows the fear and pain and grief all clogged in his throat, and with careful, quite steps, he makes his way to the other horse and begins the same repetitive strokes with the brush. At least his trembling fingers can bring comfort to the horse, if not himself. The silence in the air persists, the noise of the rough bristles combing through hair being the only sound, and Armin wonders if the deafening silence is because of what he said, or because his tears were too irritating to respond to. 

It’s the scraping of wood against stone when the captain stands that tears Armin’s gaze away from the horse and to the captain, who’s turned away. The captain can’t see him, though he still refrains from wiping at his cheeks where dried tears tickle his skin. 

“He’d be useless without his shifting power.” 

Against his better judgement, Armin counters, “You’d be useless without your gear.” 

“What a foolish comparison.” The captain turns to face him, then. “Nonetheless, you’re indisputably correct.” 

For all that the captain has said to push his shoulders to the ground and step on his back, the one sentence makes pride swell in Armin’s stomach. He tries to suppress it, for it’s all but useless and an unfit feeling—it's hardly a compliment—but being acknowledged by such a difficult man has its positives. “I have no reason to complain, I guess,” he admits. “As long as he’s valuable to you, you’ll protect him.” 

The captain doesn’t respond immediately, and unlike Eren, Armin can’t look at him and discern what he’s feeling. With his shoulders square and back straight, as healthy as the man he was leading his squad a month ago, nothing but a neutral expression paints his features to reveal the thoughts running about in his head. The pause in itself is telling, in a way, he thinks. 

Breaking him from his thoughts, the captain takes a sharp breath. “Though it’s none of your concern, his value to me is isn't the same as his value to the Corps.” 

Stupidly, Armin grins. 

It’s dumb, and yet again is the emotion misplaced given the situation. 

But that pride continues to spill over the confines of his stomach and he can’t place just when the conversation steered away from the captain being upset with him to the captain defending his feelings for Eren, but it happened. 

And at that, he’d hardly admitted anything, really. All his words should be taken to mean is the captain doesn’t view his soldiers as dispensable, which is something they all knew anyway, but even so, knowing what he does, and being in the environment the three of them are in, where there is no physical room to keep secrets, Armin thinks he’s allowed to perceive the words in the context he does. 

And the captain’s words—simple, in no way grandiose or romantic, and just slightly tone-deaf—are all he needs to confirm what he said to comfort Eren was indeed the truth. 

Of course, the captain makes a face that screams ‘I’d like to kick that grin off your face’ before turning to walk away. 

“Sir!” he calls to his back, continuing only when he stops moving. “So... you’re not going to write me as the bad guy in your report anymore, right?” And again, although the captain can’t see him, he keeps his expression under check and holds back his prideful grin for the moment. 

The captain’s shoulders rise, then fall. “I don’t lie. You tried to stop him, the brat left anyway. That’s what happened.” 

Armin briefly wonders if his ‘I don’t lie’ pertains only to writing reports—after all, in just the few months he’s known him, the captain has lied through his teeth to protect others more than once. “Right, it is.” 

When the captain has left him, it takes all his self-control not to curl into himself from both relief and a foolish giddiness he didn’t expect to feel. 

They like each other, he thinks warmly. The captain and Eren like each other. 

He'd been nervous about getting reprimanded for making the captain explain himself, so coming away from the conversation with the thought that they like each other is the furthest conclusion he thought he’d come to. 

But they like each other. 

He’s not sure why he’s the first to know, but the captain’s reasons for saying the things he does, at the times he does, is anyone's guess. If anything, at least there’s no reason to ‘plan’ for what Eren should do, since things might be in his favour. 

And as if she were reading Armin’s positive thoughts and wanted to share the brief happiness, the horse at Armin’s side licks at his hand over and over, and he can’t help but laugh at the warm tickle. “I know, I know,” he says to her, leaving out an open palm. “That went really well right?” he asks, laughing at the enthusiastic nuzzle he gets in return. “Maybe Eren’s wearing him down, he was too nice y’know?” 

When a raindrop hits his nose, he pulls the horses leads, bringing them into the stables. 

With the captain’s words and his conversation with Eren the other night playing in his head, he wonders if the captain has much to think about as well. 

He supposes he’ll spend a bit more time out here with the horses—after all, they’re great conversationalists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahahahhhahhah short right ? but like,,,, good short ?
> 
> this is a conversation i knew had to happen right from the beginning. it doesnt seem like much happened, but armin and levi talking when theyre both at a crossroads is something i knew i wanted to happen. its a unique combination, and i think the fact that they both love eren, though in different ways, shows them things the other doesnt see. 
> 
> despite his [stupid, misplaced] anger with armin for not doing his shit right, i wanted to make sure it was obvious how much levi understood him. choosing between the person who can protect eren and eren himself is difficult when youre his best friend, obviously, and levi no doubt knows that kind of pain. 
> 
> with armin, obviously hes annoyed because like mans tried yknow, that was his best friend he let go and the captains like 'why diDnT you trY harDer' like bitch stfu of course he tried his best to stop him. hes really calm about it compared to levi whos having some trouble understanding that no matter how much he likes eren now, its not a reason to reprimand armin, which he realizes after listening to him talk. 
> 
> anyway, its quite a unique chapter, but i felt it was necessary and helped both of them in their own respective ways, and i will be posting early next time, maybe it like tenish days.
> 
> alright, i love you all and thank you so much for keeping with me until now. it means the world that you give me your time. feel free to comment anything you liked or disliked, i truly love reading your thoughts. everyone stay safe and healthy, and more importantly stay happy. ill see you soon.
> 
> hang a teru teru bozu off your doorknob --leaf


	8. Rigidity and Plasticity are not Absolute Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snails, cute things (people) that have no business being cute, and flower crowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my loves : DDDD,
> 
> because im a prideful piece of shit, i did not watch rezero all these years and because of the buzz of season two, have binged a couple of episodes of that today, which is why i come to you at 1am instead of thirteen hours ago. also, i started japan sinks 2020, and ive cried more during the first two episodes than i have this whole year, so theres that. 
> 
> regardless, its perfect timing, because weve hit 200 kudos ???????? : DDDDDDD, it was just a few chapters ago i was so happy about 100 kudos and uploaded early, what a parallel to today, its the same situation : D. thank you all so much, the kudos and comments are the best support i could ever have during this process, and it keeps me going no matter how hard it gets to write chapters. i know ure all waiting for me, which makes it hard to quit, i know i have to repay you for all the support, so ill continue to try my best : DD
> 
> thats enough from me. i really like this chapter, its lighthearted and simple, i hope you enjoy : DD

The captain likes to spend time outside, Eren’s noticed. They’ve been camped out here for just over five weeks now so he’s been feeling considerably better, and by day he’s spending more and more time outside. It still rains almost daily, and it’s getting quite cold with winter just around the corner, but he goes anyway. Eren thinks he must be quite fond of the outdoors after living the majority of his life in the underground. 

Just yesterday there had been a thunder storm, so he hadn’t been able to go out and was in a bad mood from the moment he’d woken up to a lightning strike. That’s the blessing of storms though; there’s a calm before the storm, and there’s the calm after the storm. 

Today, the skies are relatively clear. 

So, Armin tends to the stables, and Eren joins Levi for a walk through the glimmering forest. 

Many of the trees have just begun to colour with oranges and yellows, but for the most part, it’s green staring back at them. Heavy clouds litter the sky but the sun shines through relentlessly, and the blue after a seemingly endless grey sky is even more pleasant. With the sun out, it seems the animals of the forest followed suit, as Eren spots a tail disappearing just around the corner one too many times. 

The air nips at Eren’s arms where his sleeves are pushed up, but the beams of warmth peeking through the treetops in a flurry of sunspots bring warmth as they walk side-by-side down the dirt path. 

And the captain doesn’t need much help to move anymore—none at all really. He’d have trouble with running, but that’s why they go on walks. 

They reach a fork in the road and Eren strays off the path. 

“What are you doing?” 

Eren shoots a smile over his shoulder. “Follow me,” he calls back. “We can’t go too far and I know you’re not going to turn back right now, so let’s sit somewhere,” he suggests. 

The captain seems to agree, begrudgingly stepping over a patch of mud in pursuit of Eren. 

In the lead, Eren steps down plants and breaks branches that would get in the captain’s way. Levi protests the action, but Eren crunches a plant down, runs ahead, and lets the wind carry his voice away. 

As Eren rounds a particularly thick tree, a bundle up in the branches—strikingly white against the greens and browns of the forest—catches his eye, and he winces at the crunching noise his footstep makes. 

Slumbering under the warmth of sunlight, there lies a cat. 

With a smile overtaking his expression, he turns with the intention of showing Levi the sight, but his eyes meet nothing but that of mere leaves and trunks. 

Retracing his steps, he quietly makes his way back until he spots his captain a short distance away wiping dirt off his boots. Eren pauses when Levi notices him, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘are you kidding me?’ when Levi reluctantly puts his foot back on the ground. 

Eren shakes his head, and against his better judgement, he grabs Levi’s hand and holds tight. “Come on, I want to show you something.” 

••• 

A little ways passed the sleeping cat, Eren and Levi have taken refuge on a large log. 

They sit where the sun hits. 

While Levi is making sure mud hasn’t stuck to his boots, Eren leans back onto his hands where the bark digs into his palms, eyes closed and cloak thrown haphazardly to the side. 

They sit together, and the time passes. 

The slumbering cat awakens, effortlessly leaping to the ground. She walks, paws dirtied without a care in the world as the beautiful girl takes a peek at the new members of the forest, fit with green and brown and all the colours she’s familiar with. She welcomes them. 

The insects scattered by the pairs’ footsteps return. Ladybugs settle back on their leaves. Beetles come out from their hiding places and walk along their paths once again. Moths taking flight for the treetops settle back down in the crevices of the trunks. The bugs no longer pay mind to the new figures in their land. 

An inquisitive doe, having fled at the heavy and careless sounds of newcomers, now rounds a corner, hiding behind a cluster of trees to deem whether the bipedal creatures were safe, or here to hurt her. Her ears twitch, and she takes a few careful steps forward when the creatures don’t move for a while. The smaller creature notices her, and she sees no malice in its eyes. She wanders off, contented to have new forest friends. 

The wind has decided to take a break for the time being, leaving the woodland still and silent. Eren takes a deep breath, and the sound startles a curious squirrel. “It’s so nice…” he barely whispers. “I hope Armin’s not holed up reading…” He kicks his legs out, not a single care for the mud or leaves at his feet. “I wish we had days like this in the Corps, it’s always so hectic…” 

Eren thinks he could fall asleep if he were lying down, maybe even just sitting in a tree. The chirping of birds and shuffling of animals fill the forest with sounds of life, and nostalgia tightens his throat. “How do you feel, Captain?” he asks, peeking at him when he doesn’t respond. 

The captain sits with his feet on the log and knees to his chest—a position most certainly unfavoured by his wounds and ribs—as he stares at the ground. 

Eren smiles, raising his eyebrows at him again in a silent question. 

Levi clicks his tongue, making no motion to change the way he sits. Instead, he shifts a hand closer to himself. 

Following the movement, Eren spots a particular snail sat between where his and the captain’s hands rest on the log, and he bites back a laugh. “You’re avoiding the snails?” 

The captain only rolls his eyes. 

“Just move them,” Eren says, and he feels lucky. He sees his captain curled into a ball, fighting against the mere slime of a couple snails and feels incredibly lucky that he gets to sit here with him. To think back on what they’d dealt with to keep the captain alive, and realize that he’s sat here with the man, healing and well on his way to being healthy again, Eren can only hope the captain feels a similar relief. 

What a relief that they get to fret over snails, instead of waiting for one of them to take their last breath. 

Levi picks the snail up by the shell and goes to throw it. 

Broken from his thoughts, Eren gasps, grabbing his hand mid-throw. “Don’t move it like that,” he says, disbelief dripping in his tone. Despite himself, the look on his captain’s face makes him smile. 

He brings Levi’s hand down, taking the snail onto a finger. 

The captain finally uncurls, putting his feet back on the ground. 

“It might be a little slimy, but it’s just a snail,” Eren says, looking at the little creature in his hand like it were a treasure. 

“Why did you sit on a log that has snails?” 

“It’s been raining for like a month straight, every log has snails.” 

The captain sighs, looking at Eren’s hand with distaste. 

And Eren has a shit idea. “You know, Captain,” he begins as he shifts to face Levi, their knees knocking together. He doesn’t think about how close they are. “Snails are actually quite good for your skin. They’ll help with wrinkles and dryness, among other things.” 

“If you so much as flinch I will cut your arms off.” 

Eren swallows down a laugh. “They’ll just grow back.” 

“Creepy,” he mutters. “There’s not a single part of your abilities that is pleasant.” 

Eren looks at him square in the eyes. “Alright, I won’t put it on your face, just hold it.” Where his confidence comes, Eren himself couldn’t say. 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he implores. “For a bit.” 

“It’s disgusting.” 

Eren squints his eyes at him. “It’s a snail and it’s cute,” he says resolutely, smiling at the snail now crawling over his palm. “Look at its eyes,” he says, bringing it closer to Levi. “Isn’t it cute?” 

“Adorable.” 

Eren turns to the captain with a prideful smile, fully intent on burning the captain’s expression into his memory for the rest of his life, except, when he turns, he meets another set of eyes. Eren’s smile falters, and he tries not to seem surprised. He fails. “Uhm. Captain?” 

“Hm.” 

Eren tilts his head, eyes kind and hopeful. “You weren’t looking at the snail.” 

There’s a pause, and Levi’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m aware,” he says, finally. 

Eren bites his lip to avoid grinning. “Captain.” 

“Hm.” 

He lifts his snail hand between them. “Will you hold the snail?” 

“No.” 

Eren clicks his tongue. “Give me your hand.” He reaches over to find a hand. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Just do it,” he pleas. “Give me your hand.” He gestures for a hand multiple times, but to no avail. 

“No.” 

Eren sighs. “Here, just—” he grabs Levi’s hand anyway, using as much strength as he can muster to pry open the fist. Then, placing Levi’s hand beside his own, he ushers the snail onto Levi’s palm, who looks like he’s about to launch it across the forest again, so Eren continues holding his hand from behind. 

He wonders what his captain could possibly be thinking—aside from being utterly disgusted—having complied to Eren’s every request so far. 

“There,” he says, petting the shell. “See? You barely even feel it.” 

“It’s disgusting.” 

Eren sighs. “You say disgusting one more time and I’ll rub this hand on your face.” 

“I’ll cut that off too.” 

Eren laughs. “You don’t even have a blade on you.” 

Immediately, Levi’s reaches for his left boot, and true to Eren’s word, it’s missing. He glares. 

“In my defense—" Eren begins quickly, raising his free hand to concede. “I took it off ages ago and it’s been sitting on the counter this whole time.” 

“Right.” The captain turns back to the snail. “Because I go in the kitchen so often.” He turns back to Eren. “Take this off now.” 

“No. In fact…” he begins, looking around for another snail. 

He spots one across the captain. 

Letting go of Levi’s hand, Eren leans across the captain’s legs, balancing himself with a hand at Levi’s waist, and he doesn’t know whether to feel surprised or not that the captain doesn’t immediately slap his hand away. He ushers the snail onto his finger until it’s sat firmly and he’s confident it won’t fall, then sits back up. “Here, let’s give it a friend.” He shuffles closer to Levi, enough that their sides are touching wherever possible. 

Levi pulls away. 

Eren holds the captain’s hand from below with his free one, then lets the new snail make its way to his palm. True to a snail, it moves slowly, and something swells in Eren’s chest. It would be so easy—so, so easy—for the captain to drop Eren’s little game and go for the quiet walk he set out to have. But here he is, dry remarks and threats and all, as he sits with Eren and does the most absurd of things. 

“I’m going to throw these across the forest.” 

“No you’re not.” Eren smiles, watching the snails roam quite happily on their newfound ground. 

“What is the purpose of subjecting me to filth?” 

Sighing, Eren holds his captain’s snail hand with both his own as he pointedly looks back at him. “The purpose is, you need to understand that filth is filth that should be cleaned, and snails—” He looks down at them with a gleam in his eyes. “—are cute little pieces of nature that you can pet and they’ll be happy about it,” he says, petting the new snail himself. 

“I’m very, very far from happy.” 

“What if I pet you?” 

“I dare you.” 

Eren breaks out in laughter and he turns, curious to see the captain’s expression, and it only sends him curling into himself with a giggle. “Well now I want to pet you and see what happens.” 

“Eren,” Levi taunts. 

“You can’t dare me like that and expect me not to want to,” he defends weakly, the grin on his face nulling any impact his words could possibly have. And the look Levi gives him sends him off into another fit. 

Eren wonders what he did to be able to say these things and have the captain treat him in kind—treat him like a friend. What part of him deserves this, he thinks. The captain indulges him and lets him laugh without a care for the state of their world, and he can’t help but wonder what it would take for the captain to laugh like that. To laugh at all. 

What would it take? A good joke? Eren embarrassing himself to an unbelievable degree? Tickling? What it would take for his dearest captain to live a moment without a care for the death of the world, Eren wishes he knew. 

In general, it was not difficult to know the captain’s emotions at most times—when he’s upset, in pain, angry, annoyed, content—it’s always on his face; he’s a more open book than he himself knows. Eren can simply tell. He can tell that, as disgusted as his captain is with the snails, he doesn’t dislike the time they’re spending here. But how can there be more? 

And so Eren wonders; how comfortable does he need to be? How safe does he need to feel? Who does he need to be with, to be happy? 

And so Eren wonders; he wonders if he’ll ever get to see the man he’s grown so fond of have even just the moments’ happiness he deserves. 

Eren turns to him, and his smile grows as he watches the man struggle with keeping the snails on his palm. “You look like you want to leave,” he says, the now grin plastered upon his lips. 

“I do.” 

Eren bites his lip, leaning just a bit closer. “You do?” he whispers, voice almost carried away with the wind. 

“I do.” 

“Okay.” And for a moment too long, their eyes linger on each other’s. 

Pulling his attention back to the snails, Eren removes each one, thumb resting directly on the steady pulse at his captain’s wrist as he takes care not to hurt the creatures when peeling them off. He places the snails back on the log. “There, let’s go.” 

Making sure to bring his cloak, Eren stands, but before he can take a single step he’s abruptly turned around and yanked down by the collar. 

And the captain’s wiping his hand on every inch of Eren’s face. 

He does it for far longer than necessary, and when he’s done, he doesn’t let go. 

“Uhm,” Eren says, amusedly awaiting a response in his uncomfortable position. 

“It’s good for your skin.” 

Eren bites his lip. “I deserved that.” 

“Absolutely.” Then Levi throws his hold and stalks off on his own. 

Shaking his head, Eren catches up, and again they walk side-by-side through the sparkling forest. 

••• 

Armin’s just about done brushing down the horses when he spots the captain and Eren leave together down a path into the forest. The sight puts a smile on his face. 

The wind blows. The horse's hair is warm from the sunlight pouring through between the cracks in the clouds, and he decides the horses deserve a little extra brushing for being so good about their very static trip so far. 

On his mind comes forth the image of the two leaving together. 

Armin can admit that he doesn’t know much about relationships, having never been in one of course, but he knows what to look for when he’s not looking at himself. And he’s not sure what he sees in the two that have just unsuspectingly walked by. 

He wonders what kinds of things they’ll talk about. He wonders if their legs move in step with each other, or off by just a beat. He wonders if they sit in the sunlight, or take refuge from the heat. 

He wonders if he sees mutual love and respect, or difficult roads who’s only map is incorrect. He wonders if he sees a pair that can protect each other and care for each other, or two people who will ultimately destroy the other. 

He wonders if he can trust a man like the captain. He can trust the captain with Eren’s life any day. But he wonders. He wonders if he can trust a man like the captain with his best friends' heart. 

See, there’s that difference, that small difference that exists, between trusting a man with lives, and trusting him with hearts. Both are extremely fragile, and break at the touch of a mere sharp edge—whether that edge be from a blade or between a pair of lips. The life and heart of a human is but a sandcastle, and once broken, oh how difficult they are to fix. 

Armin wonders, does such a man exist that can protect both life and heart? Is his captain that kind of man, or has the years of anguish and despair turned the shell of his spirit to stone? 

The captain has no trouble understanding the emotions of another—he’d even say the man empathizes too well—but is love one of those emotions? Is there any way for the captain to understand and accept the kind of love Eren holds for him? Will he even attempt to understand if he doesn’t? Or would he dismiss it? 

Maybe he doesn’t dismiss it. But can he navigate the pathways? Can he patiently step through each and every twist and turn it takes to learn how to love? Will he cherish the feeling of his heart skipping a beat, or will he dislike it? Will he long to meet the eyes of the one he loves or will he turn away at the thought? Will he let the butterflies roam in his stomach or will he crush them? 

Given their conversation, Armin has no doubt the captain both holds affection for Eren and knows he holds such affections for Eren, however strange it is to acknowledge. But, even in love himself, will he decide to reciprocate Eren’s feelings, or will he break both their hearts? Will he let himself be in love or will he stomp out the emotion? Will he accept love from another or will he believe it too dangerous—too selfish? 

Just what kind of man would he be, to Eren? For a man in love is not the same man he was prior to. The heart is softer; more pliant and vulnerable. It wants to be kind, it wants to keep safe and hold close and hold dear. It wants for only happiness and affection and peace and there’s not a force in the world that can stop a man in love from protecting those joyous moments with the one he so desires. 

Unless of course, there is no room for that kind of softness within the heart. 

And if there was one man Armin would name to have the strength and resolve to stop his heart from going soft, it would be the captain. 

The horses have fallen asleep. 

Armin pats them both on the head, silently wishing them a well rest whilst he goes on his own trip. 

He remembers reading a book about crafts. Each chapter detailed something new, from the basics of embroidery to making clay pots. 

The field of flowers before his feet bring forth the chapter about making flower crowns. He sets about pulling flowers from the bottom of the stem—white, yellow, red, purple and all he sees before him. 

Armin doesn’t believe a rejection would be enough to ruin Eren. Not in the slightest. He’s much too stubborn to accept a rejection—not if he knows how the captain feels. No. Eren would be the type of idiot to say ‘as long as I know how you feel, it’s okay.’ He’d be that guy. 

And to begin with, what part of such a person did Eren like anyway? Meeting the captain had truly demystified all childish infatuation one could hold for a man of his stature. 

The once ‘humanity’s strongest', emotionless, impossibly strong, and invincible man is now a man burdened with the lives of thousands, empathetic to a fault, and in no way safe from death. He is now a man who requires cleanliness to the utmost degree, a man who lacks communication skills to a point where violence is his first instinct in slew, a man who desires to follow rules even if such will be the cause of his death. 

That’s the kind of man he is. 

He is admirable, worthy of the utmost respect, both mentally and physically strong, loyal, brutally honest, and very, very difficult to love. 

Beneath the layers of his harsh, intimidating nature, what was it that Eren had seen? What did he, and only he, see in a man like the captain, that results in the man willingly taking Eren on a walk with him? What did Eren see, that a man so guarded—so numb and disconnected from his own feelings—would begin to trust Eren with these emotions? 

It’s a little bit insane to Armin, who stands on the outskirts of the carefully choreographed dance the two are doing on the tips of their toes. 

It’s a little bit insane that his little old friend, with his annoying stubbornness and impulsive character and voice just a little too loud, was able to grasp the affections of their captain—a man deemed almost unapproachable thanks to his rank and personality. 

It’s a feat no one would even dare imagine. 

And he did it by accident. 

What a friend Armin has, is what he can’t help but think. 

With the stems of flowers overflowing in his palms, Armin kicks his cloak off a barrel and toes off his boots, using socked feet to spread it flat on the grass. Sitting on the cloth, he sets all the flowers down in front of him, and begins to weave them into a crown. 

It must have been that room, Armin thinks. 

The room where Armin would skirt around even fixing a couple blankets, but Eren would walk in prepared to make bathing a grown man a pleasant experience, and succeed. The room Armin would hesitate to step foot in when the captain was angry, yet Eren would walk in and get forgiveness out of the man without even uttering an apology. The room where the captain would sit up and straighten his back before letting Armin open the door, but slept with Eren just next to him, sometimes holding him. 

There must have been something there that Armin couldn’t see—Armin or anyone else around the captain. Something only Eren had been able to see that had him decide the captain was worth it. 

Or maybe, as Eren so eloquently tried to explain, he had chosen to see something. Maybe it was the same captain for everyone, and Eren was the only one who believed he was worth it. 

It must have happened in that room. 

It must have. 

For it was there, where they spent time alone, learning a little bit more about each other and seeing pieces usually only lovers would see. 

Perhaps that’s the consequence of saving someone’s life. 

After all, it was Eren who saw all his broken pieces, and it was Eren who had to make sure all the pieces went back together. It was Eren who saw all those pieces at their most vulnerable, and it was Eren who chose to see those pieces as something he wished to cherish, instead of something he’d rather lock away and pretend he’d never seen. 

And in the process of one man putting another one’s life back together, the two must have found something in each other—something quite impossible to find outside of that room. 

That room where soft smiles and slight touches and flickers of candles, bated breaths and untold stories and wavering gazes and everything in between become the stepping stone for a softening heart. 

Looking down at his work and all the extra flowers, Armin contemplates if it would have served him well to have made a pattern with the other colours, or maybe a thicker crown. But, he thinks the thin weave with small white flowers and long green stems looks quite nice—it fits the Corps’ colour scheme, if nothing else. 

And with the snapping of twigs he looks up to see the pair that had been on his mind, holding hands and leaned in a bit too close to each other. He couldn’t know what it was, but Eren says something to the captain and even from where he sits Armin can see it made the captain smile the smallest bit, and Eren throws his head back, laughing gleefully. 

When they disappear back into the cabin, once again, Armin finds himself smiling at them, despite his concerns. 

With the image of their intertwined fingers on his mind, Armin thinks it might all be okay. 

In the same way his flower crown looks incomplete, Eren and the captain are still learning, still growing, together. And in the same way he can always add more to his crown, Eren and the captain will find things that work for them. 

In the same way he neglected to use flowers of flashy colours, Eren and the captain will find what is comfortable for them. And in the same way his crown fits only his head, Eren and the captain will find a place where only they can fill the spaces. 

In the same way he’s carefully weaved each thin stem with another, Eren and the captain will twist and turn and dance their intricate dance until they find their rhythm, hands entwined just as they were today. 

That is, should the captain let his heart soften. 

And maybe it will. 

Maybe it won’t. 

Armin couldn’t know. 

He ungracefully places the flower crown on his head. It's alright, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : DDDDDD,
> 
> so like, i have to admit, at the current time of me writing this note, 1:29am EST, i do not have a chapter title yet, i will include the time i come up with the title at the end of the note so you can all judge how fucking stupid i am for not thinking of one earlier, and also judge the insanely long time it takes me to come up with a title because im the smartest person in the room and definitely dont take too long to come up with simple things.
> 
> imagine how long it takes to write a decent chapter hahahahah : DD. [im begging you someone beta read for me i need someone to bounce ideas off of this fic needs to be written before my semester starts] [jk]
> 
> on to the chapter. 
> 
> i thought wed take a break from all the heavy conversations and stuff that theyre always having, and just write a stupidly cute scene of them enjoying each other presence, even tho its just eren being a piece of shit and levi accepting it. i did want this chapter to accomplish something tho, and it was to show that they really are growing comfortable with each other, levi didnt just suddenly let eren do whatever he wanted or be lenient with him, he actually does enjoy being with him, because sometimes, thats all love is. there doesnt have to be some grand reason or big justification as to why he fell in love, it was quiet, straightforward, and simple, just like levi himself.
> 
> eren is just being annoying and cute.
> 
> armin has some thoUGhts uhhhahahhah lmao. hes obviously questioning just what the fucK is going on and how this ended up happening and i think thats reasonable, especially since armin is definitely the kind of person who quietly mulls over a lot of things before coming to a solution, at least to me. you make what u will of his thoughts, but i wanted to emphasize just how many details armin notices, how much attention he pays when it seems like hes not, and i also wanted to use his thoughts to highlight some important things about our main couple, obviously. i hope his thoughts were an interesting read, as they were definitely also things i had in mind as i planned and built eren and levis relationship as the author. 
> 
> so, thats about it. id like to say, the next chapter is so sexy, its one of my favourites, and a very important turning point, which is sexy since its the halfway point, my own mind amazes me sometimes. : DDDDDDDDD
> 
> anyway, i love you all, thank you so much for being by my side all this time, and welcome to all the new readers who stay up all night binging this, i make each chapter so long just for you all, who love the binge : DD. everybody do your homework before reading okay. stay healthy my loves, i hope we can all go out soon for places still in quarantine, and i hope this fic helps some of you having a hard time in your house : ). 
> 
> this was so long, im sorry, i have a lot of thoughts, take care my loves.
> 
> change your lightbulbs : DD --leaf
> 
> ps: thought of the title now, at 2:14am EST : D.


	9. To Love a God of Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running thoughts, soft ears, and a selfish captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my loves : DDDD,
> 
> exactly three weeks later comes an update, fuck yea. 
> 
> id like to mention user shittyfoureyes for betaing for me, check out their fics if you havent already, theres a whole gold mine : DD.
> 
> thats all, this chapter speaks for itself, enjoy : DD.

There isn’t much to do. 

Preparations to leave don’t take long as it’s quite unlikely anyone is coming down to use the place, but they’ve washed the blankets and dried the towels and cleaned up after themselves anyway—the only noticeable difference may be the greatly diminished pile of firewood, and perhaps the tragic supply of food is slightly more lacking than when the trio arrived. Only slightly. 

Armin’s been busy boiling and cooling water to take on their journey back—they’re packing quite light, simply water and a blanket, for it shouldn’t take longer than the length of the night to get to the walls. 

After getting dressed and left with nothing to do, Eren’s busied himself with fruitless tasks. He restacks the pots from largest to smallest. He removes the cutlery and places them back correctly aligned and in their respective groups. He uses a towel to clean fingerprints off the few mugs and steel cups still on the counter, then reorganizes those in their cabinets too. 

They’re easy. Repetitive. Don’t require much thinking. So he has all the cognitive power he needs to analyze each and every conversation he’s had with Levi on this little ‘trip,’ and contemplate whether he should approach him or not. 

Eren glances back at the man focused on putting on his boots, clueless to the unquieting dilemma circling Eren’s thoughts. He turns back to the cupboards, resituating towels and blankets so the folded edges are facing inwards, and the blankets stacked by size. 

It’s not impossible, but it’s quite unlikely that Levi doesn’t feel any sort of affection for him, he reasons. There’s little to suggest he doesn’t, and too much to suggest he does. Even more so since the night they went walking. He was daring that night, sure, but it went well, and he can’t imagine Levi—someone so guarded and straightforward—would act as he has been lest he was okay with it, perhaps wanted it. 

And Eren fears these uncertainties will remain in the air if they don’t speak now. They’ll make it back, and in the commotion and the restrictions and reintegrating, talking will be a lost cause, and any chance they have in any sense of the word ‘together’ will vanish too. 

And it’s not so much that they must figure out their feelings, really, for Eren’s quite certain of his own, and of Levi’s too—whether he admits them himself is another matter. What they have left to puzzle together is a choice; a choice so fickle they may move worlds to sustain it yet still it may not stand, with an outcome potentially painful enough that what joyous memories are made don’t hold a candle to it. 

It’s a difficult one for a man who’s lived a long, weary life of nothing but death and loss—where even the most delightful of times with the most cherished people have ended in gore. To him, the potential pain may not be worth the pleasure. 

But Eren—silently watching Levi’s thin, careful fingers do up the button on his cloak—makes his choice easily, for he is naïve, young, and inexperienced, and putting his heart on the line isn’t nearly as daunting as loving Levi is heartwarming. 

Eren begins alphabetizing the spice shelf, and Armin has left to ready the horses. They could talk now, Eren thinks, and he’s on letter N when he wonders why it’s taking so long if there aren’t more than twenty jars. 

What if Levi says yes? Eren fully expects to be denied, so he wonders how they’ll go about being together if Levi complies. It’s quite the unique situation, after all. How would Levi define his affection to begin with? What would they do as partners? Lovers? How would Eren hide his obvious adoration? When would they see each other? What would happen if Eren really did lose control of his titan? What would happen if ill-willing people found out? What if they chose wrong? Such—nightmarish rather than daydream-like—thoughts swim about as Eren confidently places turmeric before sesame seeds and shuts the cabinet. 

He moves to open another cabinet filled with wooden plates and bowls. 

“Eren.” 

He glances over his shoulder, timid, as though Levi’s heard all the bells and whistles blaring in his head. 

He tosses Eren’s cloak at him, heading to the door. “We’re leaving.” 

Dazed and unfocused, Eren fails to catch it and it lands draped over his head. He fumbles when he pulls it off, and barely gets the button done up as he catches up to Levi, both mentally and physically. 

“Wait,” he calls, grabbing hold of Levi’s hand. Clutching his fingers, he runs a thumb over each of his knuckles, noting the taller middle knuckle, the shorter little finger’s knuckle. 

Eren leads him away from the door, and he wants to look back yet it feels like a feat more impossible than drinking fire so instead he listens. He listens to the second pair of footsteps padding the floorboards behind him, and comes to a stop. 

He breathes, needing to compose himself because his heart beats faster than the rhythm he feels at Levi’s wrist, and sounds loud enough each beat drums in his ears. The thumps only get louder and Levi’s stillness does little to appease his nerves and it takes all he has to ignore them. 

Then he turns back. He takes a step, then another and another and yet another step closer each time Levi backs away. 

Levi looks down at the ever-shortening gap between his and Eren’s feet as he finds himself colliding with a wall, trapped between it and Eren. He stares at the space—barely a centimeter in length now—to busy himself, which works about as well as Hange communicating with titans. 

Eren’s fingers trail over Levi’s colder, thinner ones as they slip away from his grasp. The hand comes to rest upon Levi’s temple, brushing away the hair hiding his face and tucking the strands behind his ear. He catches a glimpse of freckles strewn about Levi’s cheeks, so few and faint they would vanish from sight should he be a mere step further. He’s shameless with his stare, intrigued that Levi has such an endearing quality, and wonders what else there is to discover. He traces the length of his face—down his temple, then the cheekbone, then the rough surface of his cheek—and lays to rest at his jaw. 

Levi’s hair slips back into place, and he remains still. 

Impatient, Eren holds his head in both hands and forces him to look up and for the first time in a while, Levi’s expression reads less than a blank page before a blind man. 

Eren brushes a thumb over Levi’s cheek, light as a feather. He leans closer, and closer, and just a bit closer. Their noses nudge together. He stops. 

“Are you going to?” Levi’s tone is quiet, almost a whisper. It’s a voice Eren’s never heard him use before. 

“Are you going to stop me?” Eren asks, just as quiet. He leans a bit closer. 

“I won’t have to. You’re not going to do it.” 

Eren smiles. “But you want me to, don’t you?” 

“Who told you that?” 

“So you don’t?” 

“What if I said so?” 

“Then you’d be lying. So I’m certain—” He leans closer, forehead meeting Levi’s. “—you won’t be saying so.” 

“Why are you so sure?” 

And Eren laughs. 

He laughs a proper laugh—a laugh so bright and wide his cheeks push his eyes closed, so sincere he feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. And it fades to a giggle instead of silence because he’s so endeared and warm and he doesn’t think Levi has noticed just why he finds the question so foolishly charming. 

He laughs because he’s fully aware that while he treasures the darling inquiry, his response will be quite distasteful to the ears of the captain and just thinking about his reaction is beyond amusing. He pulls back slightly to look Levi in the eye, teasing smile still plastered upon his lips because he has a death wish. “You’re standing on your toes,” he says. 

“Because you’re an asshole who won’t fucking bend down.” Levi falls back on his heels and, clicking his tongue, he tries to look away, but Eren’s hold prevents it. 

Eren giggles once more. “Do you want me to bend down?” 

Levi scoffs. 

“Do you?” he teases, hushed voice dripping with both mockery and affection. 

“I’ll kick you in the shins, that’ll make you lean down.” Levi threatens, fully prepared to execute the statement. 

“Don’t—” Eren braces for impact, eyes tight and shoulders tense. He peeks and Levi hasn’t moved an inch, so he rests his forehead upon Levi’s in relief, thumb brushing back and forth upon his cheek once more. “If you want me to, tell me,” he says. 

“It’s remarkable how much you resemble a dirty sponge teeming with mold.” Levi stands on his toes—consciously this time. 

Eren can’t help but smile at the creativity of the insult. “Thank you,” he says, leaning in. “You too.” His eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, enough that their noses brush, enough that they’re breathing the same air, enough that he feels Levi’s eyelashes tickle his cheek as they, too, close. He waits. 

Moments pass in silence, then a few more and all that fills the room is the sound of their breaths and the occasional breeze outside. Eren waits, then waits a bit more. The seconds stretch and the pause seems unreasonably long and finally, he feels eyelashes tickle his cheeks once more, and the warmth of Levi’s breath is no more. 

The slightest of sighs escapes Eren’s lips as he opens his eyes and stands up straight again, hands still in place. He looks into Levi’s eyes, a small, sheepish upturn of the lips all Eren has to offer. 

“Disappointed?” 

“Not really.” Eren’s gaze shifts to Levi’s ears—the heat on his cheeks makes it hard to look the captain in the eye. His ears look soft, Eren thinks, and he holds a lobe between his fingers before he realizes what he’s doing. It’s cold. “I expected this to happen, I’m surprised I got as far as I did, honestly,” he mumbles. Sure, the motion was reciprocated, but there’s an embarrassment that follows his transparent enthusiasm. 

“You know I want to, so why don’t you? If you want to so badly.” 

“Why should I? You know how I feel, the rest is up to you,” Eren explains. 

“Why?” 

“Why?” 

“What?” 

“Why did you stop, even though you want this?” 

“You already know,” Levi says, the barest hints of a smile painting his lips. 

“Do I?” Eren leans down, once again resting his forehead upon Levi’s. He continues playing with the earlobe. It’s warm now. 

“You’re so great at reading me these days, aren’t you? I think you know.” Levi’s voice is gentle again. Strange as it is coming from him, the sound is nothing but pleasant; it’s comforting and warm and safe and he wonders if there’d ever been another on the receiving end of such affections. 

“Pardon me, Captain, but your reasons are quite dull.” And he thinks that’s a smile on Levi’s lips. Just barely. 

“Are they now?” he says. 

“They are.” And, Eren finds he cannot face the captain eye-to-eye at all. His gaze shifts down, analyzing the cracks and splinters in the floorboards. “You… you love me. Is that not enough?” 

Eren is mature, far beyond his age; such has become abundantly clear to Levi over the months Eren’s taken care of him, though despite Eren’s experiences, his youth shines in the innocence of the question. “Bold words, Eren.” 

“You’re never going to say it out loud, figured I should.” Still, Eren cannot meet Levi’s gaze. 

“Brat.” Affection spills behind the word. “No faith in me.” 

“You pulled away. No faith is due when you shy away from something so simple.” Eren’s sure his ears are red now, too. 

The heat is suffocating. 

Sure, he can talk just as usual, but he’s embarrassed, and he can’t pinpoint why he feels shy now as opposed to any other similar moments he’s had with Levi thus far. Is it the topic of discussion? That he was so close to Levi just moments ago? That Levi’s responding in kind? Something else? All the above? 

“Simple? Incredible that someone like you would find their first to be something ‘simple’.” 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, blush rising to his cheeks. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Eren’s sure Levi is teasing him. It’s hardly reasonable, but he’s sure of it. 

“Is that any way to speak to your Captain?” 

“I hope you know you don’t scare me anymore,” he says, the corners of his lips now upturned. Levi’s teasing him. It’s ridiculous, surreal even. 

“I do. It’s bothersome, shits like you should be quivering in fear.” 

Eren glances upwards, peeking through his eyelashes. He’s hesitant, he doesn’t want the moment to end though he can no longer drag it out. He received his answer; Levi pulled away. He should stop now. He should. “Should I let go, Captain?” 

“Why? Take what you came for, Eren.” 

And Eren wants to, he does, more than anything right now, he does. “I can’t do that.” 

Levi narrows his eyes. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

Finally, Eren gathers the courage to look up, for the very man who denied his advances is encouraging him to ignore such denial. “You pulled away, you said no, I can’t now. If you say no how can I keep doing what I want?” 

“And why are you giving me the power to decide when I’m the most negative person alive?” 

Eren bites down a laugh. “Oh, so you are self-aware.” 

Levi clicks his tongue. “You’re awfully daring lately.” 

“More amusing than being scared of you though, isn’t it?” Eren smiles. 

Then, there is a pause. For a moment, all is still except for the silent conversation befalling their gazes. Eren tilts his head, trying to dissect just what ideas are running about Levi’s mind. He’s still thumbing Levi’s ear, he realizes. 

It’s soft, he notes. Levi’s ears are soft. 

His cheeks warm again with the knowledge that he spent so long on something so odd, and Levi made no comment. He finally lets go, thumb back to sitting on Levi’s cheek. 

“My hands were made to kill, Eren. I can’t give you what you want.” 

Eren bites down on his growing smile. He pulls Levi’s hands up with his own, grateful to be met with no resistance, and places them upon his own cheeks. He locks his fingers with Levi’s shorter ones from behind so he can’t let go—so Levi can hold him using his ‘hands made to kill’. “Well,” he says. “I’m not dead, so…” 

Levi's eyes narrow to a mere slit, almost troubled by the sentence—as if Eren’s uttered the most offensive words known to man. “Not yet.” Then he squeezes. 

Eren pulls at his hands until he stops. “Hey now, don’t be like that,” he says through giggles, laughing despite himself. “And anyway, do you really know what I want?” 

“You want a relationship—” 

“Wrong answer.” 

Levi clicks his tongue again. “Fuck, you’re annoying. Then?” 

“You,” Eren says shamelessly, emphasizing the word. “I want you.” There is one soft bit to Levi, Eren gathers. One soft little part, hidden away, and untouched. It is surrounded by grief and pain and carnage, by rough skin and thin limbs and the shattered remnants of a never-quite-whole soul. 

“Just you.” 

But it exists—this small, soft, pliable little bit—it exists, and although it may take many a twist, turn, hop, and skip to find, it exists for Eren to find. “So, if you’ll let me give you a relationship, okay, if not, then friendship is okay too. If not even that, well, you’re still my captain, right? It’s okay, anything’s okay.” 

Levi can feel how much Eren means his words, with the way he speaks, even through the warm cheeks beneath his own palms, his gaze, too. Eren is so smitten, relinquishing his own desires as if it were such an easy feat to care about another before themselves in a world such as theirs. It pisses him off, that Eren loves so wholly, so freely that it comes at his own expense. 

And Eren has found it. The one soft spot untouched by malnourishment or misery or death. “So even though you’re the most negative person alive, I want you to decide.” Levi; so controlling, guarded, strong and aggressive, is still soft and pliable and sensitive and gentle. “Because what you want is important to me, more than just what I want. So it’s okay. Anything’s okay.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot.” 

“I thought you’d say something like that.” 

“You fell for the worst possible person, Eren.” 

“Did I? I beg to differ, Captain. In my eyes,” he begins, voice warm and overflowing with adoration. “You’re quite lovely.” 

It feels like his ribcage has fallen loose onto his heart and lungs. 

It hurts. 

It hurts Levi to hear those words—to know that Eren sees someone lovely in him; him, who has killed countless, who is violent and vulgar and brash and stoic, who would threaten before discussing, draw a blade before listening, who stands alone upon a pile of corpses as though he were a god of calamity. 

Him, who could never in a hundred years return what Eren has given him with just those words. 

In him, does Eren see someone precious, someone worthy of warmth, someone lovely. To him, and only him, do green eyes gaze with adoration and fondness. 

His chest feels tight. 

“We need to go, Armin is waiting.” He pulls his hands away from Eren’s cheeks. 

“Wait,” Eren calls, keeping hold. Before Levi can react, he pulls him closer and leans forward, resting his lips upon Levi’s forehead, so light the kiss is a simple touch. He feels Levi tense, hands going stiff against Eren’s palms. 

Eren remains perhaps a moment too long, indulging in the show of affection until Levi’s hands go slack. Much to his own dismay, Eren pulls back then, and a little pop rings in the room. His insides warm when he sees Levi’s eyes are still closed and he’s close enough that he notices the faint freckles dotting his cheeks once again—he resists the urge to trace every one of them. Levi’s eyes flutter open and Eren peers into them for a moment. 

It’s quite terrifying how much emotion lies within the eyes of an emotionless man, he thinks. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

At first, Levi says nothing, staring down at the motion of Eren interlocking their fingers. “No.” 

Eren leans down, forehead meeting Levi’s and still, he looks down. “You’re not going to look at me?” Eren asks, almost pouting. 

“No.” 

“Do you want to stop having this conversation?” And he asks, knowing the answer. 

“Yes.” 

Eren gives him a moment to breathe, running his thumb over the tense fingers going white against his own. There’s a tickle on his forehead where strands of Levi’s hair stray. “Will you please let me ask you something?” 

The lack of a denial is what Eren takes as permission. “If you weren’t… if you weren’t who you are, a captain, ‘humanity’s strongest’, a soldier… if you didn’t have all these titles and names, would you have kissed me? Would you try this with me?” 

Levi lets out a breath he seems to have been holding, hands tightening around Eren’s. “Why do you ask me questions you already know—” 

“Just say it out loud—” 

“Yes,” he all but shouts. “Yes of course I would!” And it’s at those words that he finally looks up, meeting Eren’s eyes. And he stares. There’s a pause and Levi stares into the wide, green eyes. And the longer he does the angrier he gets for he sees nothing. 

With a simple glance can Eren know his emotions yet staring at Eren at a moment where his feelings are laid out on his sleeve, Levi can see nothing. He can’t read Eren in the slightest yet Eren reads him like a children’s book and it pisses him off. 

And Eren smiles sadly, thumbing back and forth over Levi’s knuckles. “You know…” he says. “There will come a time where you are no longer a soldier.” 

Levi’s look of interest turns to a glare, and Eren stares back, meeting the harsh gaze dead on as chills run down his spine. 

And this time, it’s Eren’s hands that tighten around Levi’s. “Listen,” he begins, eyes kind and voice soft. “You… you’re…” 

“I’m what?” 

“You’re so,” Eren starts, pursing his lips. “You’re so strange,” he says, and the captain’s expression remains stoic. Eren smiles to himself. “It almost feels like you don’t want to hope for things, and that’s so strange to me because you do it anyway.” 

“Can we go now?” 

“No, I told you to listen,” Eren says, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Then I should be hearing something that makes sense.” 

Eren silently hopes the fondness swelling in his chest won’t make it hard to speak. “I mean that you seem to have a lot of faith in the future, at least the near future, even though you don’t want to believe anything will be okay. It’s strange. You’re strange,” he says, and suddenly his heart beats a split second too fast. 

“You hope though you don’t want to, you like apples but the one time we were treated to apple pie you didn’t have any, you barely talk to me but you’ll talk to yourself, you’re so strong but sometimes—sometimes it feels like you don’t even want that strength, and then you use it anyway because it saves people, but doing that burdens you I mean what is that? Why is it all backwards?” Eren says, words tumbling from between his lips before he can even register what he’s said. “You—” 

“Eren.” 

“What?” 

“You’re listing my qualities to me. They’re my qualities.” 

“I know that.” 

“Then what are you doing?” 

“I’m….” Eren trails off, trying to come up with a rational explanation but his heart is beating a little too fast and he can’t really find one. “I just—I want to understand. I want to understand why you won’t let yourself be happy. It’s not a prize you know? It’s not some luxury it’s just… an emotion. Why can’t you choose something that will make you happy? Is it this whole backwards thing? Do you think other people can’t be happy if you are, or… something?” 

“Eren.” 

“No, no. I mean—you… I’ve never met someone who will give themselves away the way you do. You…” Levi is so selfless, relinquishing his own soul as if it were such an easy feat to care about another before themselves in a world such as theirs. It pisses him off, that Levi gives so wholly, so freely that it comes at his own expense. 

Eren has to pause and close his eyes, collect himself, because what he’s saying breaks his heart but he can’t not say it. So he pauses, and breathes away the pressure in his chest. “It’s like you want yourself to disappear really, really quietly.” The smile on his lips has long wiped away, and the tension in his chest just barely allows him to get words out. “And I don’t want that.” But he does, slowly, gently, and after getting lost in his own ramblings he meets Levi’s eyes again. “I want you to give yourself this one thing,” he says. “Can’t you do that?” And Eren knows he’s asked the question to himself really, because of course Levi can’t do that. 

“What the hell are you on about?” 

And there’s a pause as Eren registers just what it is he’s heard. “W… what?” 

“The entire time we’ve been here I’ve been nothing but selfish.” 

“How do you gather—” 

“I let this happen.” 

It takes a moment for Eren to realize just what he means by ‘this’, but when he does, he can’t decide if the pang at his chest is because it breaks his heart a little bit, or he’s fallen for the man just that much more. “You let yourself fall in love?” 

“Yes.” 

Eren smiles at him, a little bit heartbroken that he thinks falling for someone is selfish, and a little bit in love because he said yes with no hesitation. “That’s not being selfish,” he says. “That’s being human.” 

And Levi squeezes his hands again, but this time it hurts. A lot. And Eren lets him because he’s feeling more things than he knows what to do with and he handles emotion by silencing it or expressing it in silent ways, such as crushing Eren’s hands. So he lets him. 

“I’m hurting you. Why aren’t you saying anything?” 

And Eren pushes back a smile because of course Levi knows it’s painful—he knows his own strength after all—he just does it anyway. “It doesn’t hurt,” Eren replies. 

“Yes it does.” 

“No it doesn’t.” Then Levi squeezes harder and Eren would laugh if he wasn’t busy hiding a wince. 

“How about now?” 

“No.” 

And he squeezes even harder. “Now?” 

“No.” 

“Now?” 

“Okay yes, but it’s fine—” Levi all but tosses his hands away, and Eren holds his cheeks again before he can walk away. “Hey,” he starts. 

“Why do you sound like you’re about to cry?” 

“Maybe because you broke my hands.” 

Levi glares. 

So that was the wrong thing to say. Shaking his head, Eren breathes. “I…” His voice wobbles and he hears what Levi means. Suddenly, he can feel how dangerously close he is to tears. “It’s nothing,” he says, fully aware Levi knows it’s a lie. “Hey,” he says again. 

“What?” 

“Look at me.” He squishes Levi’s cheeks the slightest bit. 

“I’m already looking at you,” Levi says. 

“Yes, you are.” And the corners of his lips curl upward. “But… pay a little more attention right now.” Looking down into grey eyes, toes almost touching, cold fingers resting over warm cheeks, rough but finally healthy in colour, and with a smile plastered onto his lips, Eren’s mind goes blank save for one thought. “I love you, too.” 

He doesn’t wait for Levi to respond before the warmth under his palms is replaced by the coolness of the knob, and he closes the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont even want to say anything like, this chapter is my fucking holy grail. its one of the first chapters i wrote for this fic. i wanted this specific conversation to happen - this specific confession where they dont kiss and dont end up together right away and dont make any proper decisions, so i wrote a whole fuckng fic just to get here lmao.
> 
> so,,,,,,, are you dying : D ? do you like it ? are you frustrated ? happy ? let me know, i hope this chapter threw you for all the loops.
> 
> the characters really do speak for themselves in this chapter. eren, like ive mentioned before, loves without demands, and as he tries to get this point across he stumbles and says too many things and talks a little too much. 
> 
> levi has too much going on - both as a soldier and as a person who feels undeserving of affection [god of calamity type shit] - to accept him right away, no matter how much he wants to. thats kind of where i was going. 
> 
> i just really, really, really love how the chapter came out. its honestly perfect, for me at least, the best of the best this fic has to offer [aside from one more coming up later i think lol]
> 
> anyway, thats it. thank you all so much for sticking with me, were halfway through this journey and although i have a lot of work left to do, im so grateful for all the love ive already received. i hope you all stay healthy and happy, and maybe my words can bring you comfort as well : DDD.
> 
> draw koi fish --leaf


	10. An Abundance of Entropy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molasses, boundaries, and a scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i know im late : DDD,
> 
>  **on updates:** unis starting up again, so ill have less time to write and edit. although i have quite a fair bit of the rest of the fic already written, i do obsess over editing and re-editing until each chapter feels just right and everything smoothly aligns, plus, like this time, i go through periods where i cant seem to write, and those periods will be more frequent with increasing work-loads. 
> 
> i always, always always, want to give you all the best quality i can possibly produce and so, from now on, updates will be from 3-6 weeks, instead of 2-3 weeks. i thank you all in advance for accepting this change, my loves. 
> 
> anyway, in complete contrast to what i just said because im the biggest hypocrite i know, i wrote this chapter literally last night and edited throughout the day, but i had this moment of clarity and honestly this is probably the best thing ive ever written in such a short period of time. i really quite love this chapter, and it has some really powerful moments.
> 
> enjoy : DDDD.

The old floorboards of the house creak, the sound familiar to Eren’s ears after hearing it each time he came to visit Armin. 

It’s been a few weeks since they’d arrived back within Wall Rose. 

The chaos at their arrival was almost ceremonious. 

The rumour that humanity’s strongest, Captain Levi, and the titan shifter had been killed in battle had spread far and wide across each regiment despite the presumed attempt to keep such a loss hushed. While Eren and Armin didn’t hold much to their name, it was easy to contact the right people with Levi’s well-known face and reputation pushing news of their arrival to the highest priority. 

Hange was the first familiar face to greet them. 

They’d been rushed to the current location of the Survey Corps placement, and in good luck, the area was near to where they’d initially climbed the Wall anyway. 

All three were given immediate health checks—Eren was fine, naturally. Armin’s ankle seemed to need a bit of realignment, but would be just fine in about a week. Levi still had three partially broken ribs and many more cracks, and several other places needed more time for residual pain to subside and for bones and muscle to stop aching—he was forced into a month of bed-rest, no physical training, and no fighting on the front-lines. 

It was after the first few days of forced medical rest that Eren was able to leave the building, off to be crushed in hugs and punched affectionately and verbally assaulted by his friends. Mikasa in particular was quite difficult to shake off, that first day. Jean pretended he wasn’t all that happy, and Sasha grumbled about how there would be less food for her. 

That was the first and last day Eren had off—Hange had set right to work with him, paying special attention to his report as he had spent time conscious in titan form. Based on information he’d given, she’d set up new experiments alongside the hardening ones they had planned to do before he went missing. 

It was difficult. 

At the least, much worse than his initial training to control his titan. These times, he would spend extended hours in titan form or transform multiple times a day or endure pain amongst other things to continue to test the limits of a titan shifter. Sometimes tests would be done on his human self instead of his titan. Hardening experiments were the worst of them, simply because he just couldn’t do it. Of course, only two weeks of training in an unfamiliar body of which the Corps had little to no knowledge of was not nearly enough to quit, and so they continue. 

In the evenings, he would set off on walks or individual training or to visit Armin. 

He’d feel lightheaded, sometimes, from the fatigue. Other times it was the mental toll. Other times it was a migraine. 

He could usually feel the ghost of a bite on his hand, even if it was always perfectly healed, no scar to show for his pain. His body ached endlessly, exhaustion seeping into his muscles and bones regardless of how much sleep he would get. Sometimes it feels like the wooden floors and hard soil have turned into molasses, pulling his feet down when he tries to walk, legs feeling like lead as they refuse to get high enough off the ground to take proper steps. Other times the air feels too light, and no matter how deep he breathes, the air is spread too thin and his lungs won’t fill. 

Reintegrating back into the regular swing of training—after weeks of almost constant rest and nothing to do but talk and read—was the hardest part, Eren thinks. 

He’d spent six weeks waking up to the face of his captain, with nothing in the day ahead of him but housework. 

Now, he’s had to go almost a month without seeing the captain even once. 

The physical exhaustion was routine—he knows this pain, it’s normal and usual and he can handle it, just as he has been for almost six years now. 

But he misses Levi. 

He didn’t think it would affect him so much, but not being able to see the captain on the regular basis he used to, even before the cabin, was far more difficult than the long hours of training. 

So each night he’d walk into medical care—stepping out of Armin’s room just four doors away from Levi’s—his heart ached with want. Maybe his legs were aching that day, and his temples might have been throbbing, and maybe whatever food he ate felt like air with his stomach pressing against his spine, but his heart aches, and it’s a pain far more distinct than any other. 

He didn’t have the authorization to visit the captain whenever he pleased—it had to be approved. 

Every morning, he contemplated asking Hange to approve him, but, at first, he hadn’t been able to work up the courage to ask—he didn’t know how it would look. After all, there was no viable reason as to why he’d want to see the captain so urgently. None of the other members of the squad had gone to visit either, which made Eren even more hesitant—the last thing he wanted was to put the captain in a compromising situation by behaving strangely on his own accord. 

Tonight, he’d been wandering the halls, contemplating whether or not he should find Hange and ask to be let into Levi’s room. Just as he’d decided to leave, Hange had burst in herself, a huge bag on her shoulders and an inviting look on her face. 

She practically pushed Eren into Levi’s door. 

So, here he stood, creaky floors beneath his feet and old doorknob in his hands. He takes a deep breath to calm his heart—it pounds with the elation of seeing the captain after so long, and he purses his lips to bite away the smile forming much too quickly. His fingers go white on the knob, and he closes his eyes, willing away the heat swirling in his stomach threatening to rise up his cheeks. 

The door opens with a scrape. 

He tiptoes in, quietly pushing it closed behind him. 

When he looks up, he meets Levi’s eyes—he’s sat on the bed, a pen in hand and papers strewn about the sheets. 

A sheepish smile forms on Eren’s features, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “Uhm, hi,” he mumbles, throat closing on him in a swell of emotion. 

Levi’s response is looking back down to his work. 

Eren takes the silence as an invitation, walking slow steps into the room. His chest feels like it might burst, and each beat hammers in his ears so loud he has to wonder how Levi doesn’t hear it. He rests his hands on the back of the wooden chair, untucking it from the desk with tight, white-knuckled hands. He stands behind it for an extended moment, gripping the wood with such strength it hurts, and he wonders if his toes curl in nervousness or anticipation. 

As quietly as he can, he takes a deep breath, willing his heart to calm as he steps around to take a seat. He sits adjacent to the desk, side leaning into the backrest so he can face Levi. 

The captain still hasn’t put his pen down. 

Looking at him like this, the fleeting thought crosses Eren’s mind that he wouldn’t mind spending his every night this way—seeing the captain healthy and in bed, rather than crippled and in pain on the floor, seeing the captain calmly at work, rather than struggle to hold up a book. 

The scene fits him—eyes squinting in the dim light to read the fine print, thin fingers holding pages with far too much grip. His thin frame is hidden behind clothing, loose and unfitted without the belts and straps of their gear, and his teacup sits half-empty in its dish on the bedside table. The sound of ink scratching on paper fills the room. 

“I missed you,” is what Eren says, finally. 

The hand filling out a form pauses, and Levi stills. 

“I wanted to see you,” he continues. He hopes Levi doesn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice. “It’s been a while since we...” he trails off, looking down at his hands. “Y’know… were together– ah– well, since we last saw each other, I guess,” he mumbles. Heat rushes to his cheeks, a shiver warming his insides against the cold air of the room. He didn’t think he’d ever make such a fool of himself in front of the captain—he wasn’t this bad even back when they first met. There’s a first time for everything, he supposes, inwardly wincing. 

Eren glances up, and the moment he does, the captain suddenly turns to him, grey eyes stale and dismissive. “Is that what you came here to say?” he asks. 

Eren’s eyes widen slightly, confusion settling into his features. He crosses a leg over the other, folding into himself. But even so, the captain’s voice is a moment of clarity in the muddled days of the past few weeks. He smiles. “No. I mean, no I don’t have anything I want to say I just,” he begins, licking his tense lips—there’s nothing to fear when speaking to the captain, he’s learned that many times already. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

Levi looks him up and down, the smallest shift of his pupils being the only indicator. He looks almost bored, hardly amused at Eren’s presence, and Eren’s smile is tainted with the furrow of a brow. “That means you’re allowed to be here?” he asks. 

Eren tilts his head to the side, wondering where this visit went wrong. Was the captain not pleased to see him? Did he receive some kind of report he didn’t like, or was he simply worried about Eren breaking a rule? The corner of his smile wavers. “Hange-san gave me permission,” he explains. 

“And?” 

Eren bites his lip, smile probably looking more like a grimace by now. “And that means I’m allowed to be here?” 

Levi puts the pen down, the click when he closes it echoing off the bare walls. “Are you sure?” he asks. 

Eren puts his hands on either side of the chair, gripping the seat so he doesn’t play with his fingers. “I mean, yes?” he says, quiet and uncertain. He purses his lips, eyes shifting to where Levi swings his legs off the side of the bed. He looks back up, and Levi’s expression is heavy, eyes focused and gaze unrelenting—it makes Eren feel small. “Unless you don’t want me here,” he mumbles. 

“I don’t,” Levi says. 

Maybe he was expecting it. Maybe a part of him already knew what happened at the cabin was far too good to be true. Maybe he considered that he was being hopeful beyond a reasonable level. Nonetheless, his heart still aches at the words. His stomach still flips uncomfortably, a new weight decides to place itself right upon his chest, and his nails scratch against the bottom of his seat. “Why?” he asks, lips quivering to try and place a smile on his face. 

He expected this—some part of him knew this could happen—he shouldn’t let Levi feel bad about it. After all, Eren himself said he would take whatever Levi dealt to him. He said the words of his own volition, he can’t take it back now—he won’t—it sucks a little bit, but he’ll keep to his word, and it’ll be okay. It will be, but he wants an answer first—he deserves that much, at least. 

“Why what?” Levi asks. 

“Why don’t you want this anymore?” He uncrosses his legs, planting his feet firmly on the floor to mirror Levi across him. 

Levi scoffs. “Implying I wanted anything to begin with,” he mutters. 

Eren’s brows furrow, out of growing anger or confusion he can’t tell—maybe both. “You– you said it. You seemed pretty damn willing to try three weeks ago,” he says, voice clear and challenging. He tries not to cross any lines now that they’re back within the confines of the laws and social standings of the Corps, but it’s just the two of them at the moment, and he’s a creature of habit. The casual language slips through the cracks of any boundary they uphold. 

“Am I still a Captain?” Levi asks. 

Eren tilts his head. “Yeah.” 

“Then I don’t recall saying I would try shit. Get out,” he mutters, voice closed and stoic. He leaves no room for argument. 

Leave it to Eren to be disobedient. 

Firmly planted in his seat, Eren leans forward, gritting his teeth both in frustration and to bite back how hurt he feels. “Did you regret what you said? Did I misunderstand?” he asks, eyes shining in the moonlight. 

Levi doesn’t respond. He looks away for a moment, eyes wandering over the straps and belts on Eren’s body before he meets his eyes again. 

Eren takes a deep breath, willing his heart to calm down before he can no longer hear Levi’s voice over drumming in his ears. He feels hyper-aware of not only every punctuated beat, but the blood rushing to every part of his body, from his tingling fingertips to the heels pressed firmly to the floor. Every sensation clouds his mind, and he shuts his eyes, head hanging down in anger with himself for getting so worked up—he didn’t misunderstand anything, it’s simply that their situation is much more nuanced than a plain yes or no, but Levi wants to make it that plain, he wants out because of course he does. Because it hurts. 

Eren thinks he can help with that—he wants to help with that. He wants to bring Levi the same peace and happiness he brought him back when they spent all their time going on walks and sharing meals and reading together. He knows he can, and to be shut out this way—not only will it hurt him, it’ll hurt Levi too. He doesn’t want that. 

He stops thinking. 

He breathes. 

He meets Levi’s eyes again. “Okay. This doesn’t– this doesn’t have to be anything right now. I just wanted to come see you. Just– we’re just talking. We just talk, that’s completely fine,” Eren says. “Let me be here.” 

“No.” 

“N– what?” 

“I told you to leave.” 

“Wh– I can’t just– sit here?” he stumbles, exasperated. He’s both angry and confused, and he’s not very good at being convincing when he’s confused. “I missed you a lot and I know you want to see me too. There’s nothing here, okay? We’re still just a captain and a soldier. I was your only caretaker before, I just wanted to see how you were. Isn’t that okay?” Of course, it’s a lie, but they lied all the time—they hid their feelings behind innocent actions and in the secrets the moon held onto for them—what of a few more? 

Again, Levi scoffs. “You miss me, huh,” he mumbles. Then, he kicks at the seat of Eren’s chair, the legs scraping the floor loudly as he’s pushed back. Eren holds onto the desk to prevent being pushed any farther, and, with a foot still on the edge of the seat, Levi leans forward. “Get out.” 

“Why?” It makes sense, but at the same time it doesn’t. Eren knows Levi wants to see him, and he knows the bullshit excuse he gave was enough for Levi, so why was he being so adamant? Why was he intent on dismissing everything from the cabin? Why was he saying things he didn’t mean, with no indication of a hidden truth meant only for Eren’s eyes? “Why are you being like this? What’s the problem?” 

Although Eren has a firm grip, Levi kicks at the chair again anyway. “The only problem I have is you being here. Get out.” 

Eren makes no movement—from his eyelids to his toes, not a single thing shifts. 

Levi’s eyes narrow, dangerously thin. “Leave. Now.” 

“Explain to me why.” 

Levi pulls his foot back, pounding it down with such strength it’s surprising the floorboards don’t give way. “I’m your superior officer. Comply with the order given to you and leave—” he begins, rising. He takes heavy, loud steps to stand before Eren, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him up. He kicks the chair away and it clatters loudly behind them, wood against wood echoing through the walls. “—before I beat it into you and get you thrown in jail for insubordination.” 

Eren grits his teeth, straightening his legs to now tower over Levi. He pushes forward, slamming his forehead down into Levi’s with a glare of similar ferocity. “Beat it into me,” he spits, anger and upset clouding any composure he had left. “I dare you.” 

Levi grips his shirt tighter, nails scraping against Eren’s collarbones as he does so, pulling him in close before throwing him into the wall. It knocks the air out of his lungs and his head crashes back, eyes shut tight as his skull rings with pain. And in spite of it all, he gasps in relief about where he lands, for if it were any more to the left, the doorknob would have lodged itself in his back. 

He’s given no time to regain composure as Levi pulls his shirt into his fist again, wrenching Eren forward and throwing him back with equal force. “Leave,” he repeats. 

If Eren said it hurt, it wouldn’t be from his physical pain or emotional turmoil but because—from this close, in this light, he can see it clearly in his small, glaring eyes—Levi doesn’t mean it. 

It’s almost laughably obvious—as if he’s trying to convince himself he wants Eren to leave rather than Eren himself. Eren doesn’t dismiss his words, however—he’s sure there’s a part of Levi that would much rather have Eren leave so he doesn’t have to deal with any of the complicated emotions at work, but, Eren can tell. He can tell that Levi doesn’t mean it—not the way his strength demands or the way his rumbling voice tries to convince—he doesn’t mean it, and yet he says it anyway. 

He shoves Eren away in every way possible, whether it’s to protect his emotions or his loyalty to his duty, Eren couldn’t be sure—perhaps it’s both—but it hurts Eren to know he’s struggling in such a way. It hurts to know that no matter how certain he is that Levi loves him—that he can bring Levi joy—the act of falling for Eren itself has caused him such turmoil, for he now must make an impossible choice. 

Eren pushed him to make this choice, and now, he’s not as sure as he was walking into this room that he wants to continue pushing. 

His eyes feel hot. 

The door creaks, and in peeks a pair of eyes hidden behind lenses. 

Neither of the men break their stare. 

“Ah–” Hange begins, quietly stepping inside. “Eren’s crying,” she states simply. 

Eren smiles at her tone, shaking his head and sniffling. “I'm not crying, Hange-san,” he says, lips curling further with affection the longer he looks at Levi. A thought briefly crosses his mind—that Levi’s struggling so much only because of the sheer magnitude of his affection for Eren—and the idea both warms Eren’s heart and breaks it all at once. 

As much as he wants to hold Levi’s gaze, Eren looks up, blinking rapidly to will away the pooling tears. 

Suddenly, Levi lets go, roughly tossing away Eren’s shirt. He takes a step, turning his back to Eren. “Get him out,” he mutters, presumably to Hange. 

Before he can take another step, Eren reaches for his hand. Just as their fingers brush, he turns back around, harshly smacking Eren’s hand away—the sheer force of it creates a sound that echoes through the room. His lips are thin, pressed tight and trembling at the pressure. His eyes are small and fierce and filled with hostility, shadowed by the longer bangs hanging over his forehead. His fists are tight at his sides, nails probably carving half circles in the exact same place as the similar scars there. His bare toes curl into the floorboards. His chest rises with a silent breath. “Get out,” he snarls, voice deep and calm and vicious. “Get out. And don’t come back.” 

For only a moment, Eren is taken aback. 

The captain has never, not once, spoken to him like this. He’ll speak to enemies like this—he’ll insult people he hates and taunt people who act against him and threaten people who deserve it when he speaks like this. Eren himself has heard the specific voice, but second-hand—it’s never been directed at him, no matter how angry the captain was. 

And now, it almost feels like betrayal. 

So, for a moment—for a single, fleeting, jarring moment—he’s taken aback. 

Then, he salutes. “Yes, Captain,” he says, voice clear and unembellished—refined like that of a perfect little soldier speaking to his stranger of a captain. 

He leaves. 

The door makes not a single creak as it shuts. 

••• 

“Hm, Levi,” Hange says, her voice almost lost to the scrape of the chair as she pulls it to its feet, planting it back in front of the desk. She sits with a quiet thump, ungracefully and lacking posture, putting her feet up on the desk as she turns to face her friend. 

Before she can continue, Levi clicks his tongue. “You look awful. Why don’t you ever sleep?” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know, I’ve been making sure I shower at least once biweekly so you won’t complain when I come see you, and now you nitpick about my sleep?” 

Levi sighs quietly, leaning forward from his seat on the bed to hold her by the chin. He pulls her forward, staring at her eyes for an extended moment, before finally pushing her off. He huffs. “Take a nap after you leave. I’ll ask for Moblit tomorrow, so I’ll know if you don’t. And a shower once biweekly is equivalent to getting vomited out of a titan and wiping down with a hand-towel. Don’t sell me that bullshit.” 

“But can you stop me?” 

He looks at her, then, eyebrows raised and expression contorted into a grimace. His nostrils flare. “Is there a reason you’re here?” 

Hange purses her lips, humming, and instead of answering she says— “Don’t you think you treated Eren badly?” 

Brows furrowing, Levi closes his eyes, cursing to himself. “Why’d you let him in?” he decides to ask. Better to steer her away from any non-professional ideas she’s getting. 

“Because,” she begins in defense. “He took care of you when you three were alone, no? No one remembered to authorize a recruit onto the visitors list, but I know what he did for you,” she says, now looking out the window. “Thought you might like to see him.” 

“Why would I want to see that brat?” 

She still doesn’t look at him, leaning back onto the arms folded behind her head as her chair teeters on two legs. “Well, a couple nights after you guys arrived,” she begins, chewing on her lip. “You snuck out of here to see him.” Her chair lands with a thud. 

Levi’s eyes widen. 

“I saw you. I was bringing you tea, and the old paperwork you asked for.” She balances the chair on two legs again. “I don’t know how you found out what room he was in, though,” she remarks. 

His silence persists. 

“I know you were updated on Eren and Armin’s health. I did a special report on Eren, too,” she continues, words punctuated with the decisive thump of the chair landing again. “You still went to see him.” 

His toes curl into the floorboards. 

“I wonder why you didn’t tell him you went.” She balances her chair on two legs again. “I mean, Eren didn’t seem like he knew. He was really insistent with me, y’know,” she explains, tone civil and friendly. “Spouting off reasons why he should be allowed to see you without even waiting for me to answer. I was going to say yes right away,” she says, pursing her lips. “You know, Levi,” she continues. “Something interesting happened when I was inspecting his body.” She pauses, humming to collect her thoughts. 

Levi tenses. 

“He had a bunch of these little bruises everywhere, absolutely everywhere. On his legs and arms and waist and back. They were so small, too. Some of them were old, others new… I still wonder why bruises don’t heal at a titan’s pace, but I was more curious about what they were from. I mean, you were the patient, so naturally, I thought Eren would be clean and shiny,” she explains, ponytail waving like a pendulum as she rocks back and forth on the balanced chair. 

He looks to the ground, studying the cracks and splinters. 

“And when I asked–” she cuts herself off, snorting before she laughs, eyes shut and cheeks appled. “—when I asked, he went red! All of him! Ears and face and chest and all! It was wonderful, you should have been there. Even Moblit had to laugh!” she says, still giggling on the precariously rocking chair. She catches her breath, wiping away a tear. 

Levi feels a weight on his chest. 

“You know what he said? Oh, it’s amazing. Can you guess?” The thud of her chair sounds again. She turns to Levi, an innocent smile painting her features. 

Levi says nothing, gaze sharp and piercing and pointedly angry. 

“Hmm,” Hange whines, a pout in her voice. “So you can’t guess?” She hums again, completely unfazed as she pushes her chair up to balance on two legs, rocking back and forth once again. “Well, I spent a bit of time wondering why he went red instead of grumbling about ‘Captain Levi’s way of punishing when he’s too weak to kick you in the throat,’ you know? It was a bit of a puzzle,” she huffs, and again, her chair lands loudly. “Well, I may have solved that puzzle just now—” She turns to Levi, expression neutral and calculating—her eyes look similar to when she has a breakthrough after days or weeks or even months of work, and she’s found the ground again. “—don’t you agree?” 

Levi closes his eyes, cursing the conversation and her intellect and Eren all at once. He takes a deep breath. “Enough,” he says quietly. 

Hange pouts in thought, pulling her legs off the table to plant them firmly on the floor. She puts a hand to her chin, tilting her head. “Weren’t you doing a bit too much to him just now?” she wonders, almost to herself. “I mean, putting aside how much he likes you, he did save you, you know.” 

Levi clenches his hands into small fists, feeling the imprint of his slightly long nails on his palms. “He saved me because he wanted to. I don’t have to give him shit in return.” 

“Oh? Well, I suppose you don’t personally have to. In the Corps he’s been given quite a bit of recognition. You even approved his loosened terms the other day.” 

“He said–” Levi cuts himself off, wondering if he should even be telling someone of Hange’s authority such things. If he’s going to do prohibited things, he shouldn’t drag her down with him. 

“Hmm? What?” Hange asks, completely uncaring of such ideals. 

Levi sighs. “He said he didn’t expect anything of me. That we were fine with whatever I set for us.” 

“And you set rejection?” Hange asks, raising her eyebrows. 

Levi kicks the leg of her chair, sending her bouncing back along with it. “What else am I supposed to do? Tell Erwin I brought him the gift of ‘you might lose Eren to the military police and their executioner’ back from hell?” 

Hange shrugs, absentmindedly drumming her fingers on the wooden table. “Keep it a secret.” 

“As if I didn’t think of that,” Levi scoffs. 

“Then do it.” 

Levi almost finds the statement funny. Almost. “And how many secrets are you keeping from Erwin?” 

Hange looks at him, then. “Hm? None, why?” 

“Then don’t suggest I keep one, idiot.” He crosses a leg over the other, leaning back on his hands to keep from playing with his fingers. 

“Erwin keeps tons of secrets from everyone. Eren’s whole first mission was a secret from him. And he was the food.” 

“For someone who observes things for a job, you overlook things too often.” 

Hange tilts her head. “What am I forgetting?” 

“If Erwin’s gravity, then I’m the thing that always falls back to earth.” 

“Well,” Hange begins, pursing her lips. “You can always be thrown upwards again, can’t you?” 

“What?” 

“Do you report to Erwin what you eat for breakfast?” 

Levi squints at her. “No.” 

She hums, throwing her feet back onto the desk suddenly, picking at her nails. “Then do you need to report to him who you kissed in bed the night before?” 

Levi tosses his pillow at her, hitting her square in the face. “The problem is specifically who that someone is,” he says, clicking his tongue. His side aches as he dodges the pillow Hange throws right back. 

“Will your relationship with Eren hinder your ability to kill him if the need arises?” 

Levi scoffs. “Don’t insult me. Of course not.” 

“Then I don’t see a problem with a captain and a member of his squad getting a bit cl—” 

“I do.” 

Because of course he does. Of course he sees a problem. There’s so many fucking problems. 

There’s so many problems, so many, but a part of him wants to listen to Hange. This tiny little part of Levi—the same part that almost gave in to Eren at the cabin, the same part that convinced him to sneak out of his room in the middle of the night just to see Eren’s face, the same part that ached when he threw Eren against the wall—wants to give in again. 

Levi wants to give in again. 

He wants this. 

Eren had said it so clearly—he should give himself this one thing that he wants. But can he really? Can he uproot everything he’s built and lived for these past years? Maybe—he thinks he can, if he’s already conceded this much. 

But can he handle the toll it’ll take? 

All this time he’s wondered, if he just left it alone, would it go away? If he stayed away from Eren for long enough, if he pushed him away enough, would it be okay? 

What if that was the better choice? What if it was better to keep things the way they used to be? What if the pain and chaos caused by this dilemma would just go away if he decided to remain unselfish, if he decided to let this relationship end? What if that was the right choice? 

It might be. 

Leaving it alone might be the best choice for everyone. 

He wouldn’t burden Eren or run the risk of treating him badly or hurting him further. He’s already ripped off the bandage just now, and from here he can keep it clear that nothing will happen. That way, there would be no hiding and no secrets, no risk of losing Eren or getting him executed, no risk of feelings growing further. 

Maybe that would be better. 

Maybe. 

Maybe. 

“Levi.” Hange’s sat in the chair properly again, one leg crossed over the other as she looks straight into Levi’s eyes, not a hint of amusement on her face or in her voice. 

“What?” 

She leans back, pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She sighs, looking at him again. “Has anyone ever made you feel the way he does?” 

“No.” He says it before he realizes what he’s admitted to her. Even so, the answer was unmistakable. “No.” 

She slams a foot down, leaning forward. “Then keep the secret,” she says. “You know better than anyone. In this world, if you want something, there’s no time to wait.” 

And if Eren was the right choice? 

It would be selfish, but what if it was okay, just this once? 

Besides, all of humanity put their trust in Eren—who was Levi to do the opposite? Eren wants him, Eren wants a relationship, Eren will love him without demands. Eren has given him something he’ll never get again—if Eren trusted that they could do this, if Eren could do it in secret, if Eren was willing to bear any pain, then who was Levi to deny him? What if denying Eren was the wrong choice? 

He has absolutely no clue. 

None whatsoever. 

But he knows that a part of him, a tiny little part, wants this. 

He scoffs. “That just now was the second time I rejected him.” 

Hange stands, failing to cover a yawn in favour of stretching loudly. Her bones crack here and there when she starts walking to her bag. “You’ll get it right next time,” she assures, hands on her hips to glance at Levi. “Meanwhile,” she begins, dumping a large pile of papers onto the desk with a loud thump. “This is for you!” she says, sickly sweet smile painting her features. 

Levi clicks his tongue, finally standing to go kick at her shins. “Get out, don’t bring me any more shit for a week,” he mumbles, chasing her out of the room. 

He sits in the uncomfortably warm chair, dragging it forward and hastily separating the forms into piles. 

He begins writing off things, signing and filing forms away for later, pen loudly scribbling away. It scratches against the rough and barely varnished wood under the thin paper, the noise bitter to the ear. It takes no time at all for the arm he rests his head on to fall asleep and go numb. 

And throughout his work, Hange’s words follow his every movement, looming over him. 

Eren’s heartbroken expression at the first sign of being unwelcome. His meaningless salute, prim and proper and completely unlike any side of Eren he’s ever known, from the hotheaded brat to the perceptive, loving partner. The ache in his chest when he thinks about a future without the care he’d grown so used to over those weeks at the cabin. The painful thought that he could be the reason the light in the man’s emerald eyes goes dim. 

But what crushes him—what threatens to destroy whatever is left of his soul—is the idea of them being found out, and anyone but him being responsible for Eren. The idea that Eren could be lost to people who have no care for his desires or his safety or his life. 

He puts the form down so he doesn’t crinkle it in his grip. 

He tries to make the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entropy: lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.
> 
> ••• 
> 
> so, it was kinda good right ?? like im not fooling myself when i say i did a good job in just one night, right ?? 
> 
> im just thinking like, the shit about feeling betrayed ? thats intense af, and i love the way the emotion flows in this chapter, it feels slow and heavy and tiring, similar to how eren and most definitely levi feel. i like that a lot. 
> 
> anyway levis confused lol. well, maybe not confused, per se, but hes at a loss at how to handle this unprecedented situation of his, yknow ? he loves this person, but that very act could cost him that one persons life, and having to keep his affections from that person is kind of destroying him inside. its been interesting to explore how hed handle something like this given the kind of headstrong and tough, yet loyal and caring personality he has. he just,,, he absolutely needs to make the right choice here, and hes so used to making the wrong choice that the idea of choosing wrong regarding someone so close to his heart is mind-numbing and he doesnt want to do it at all. also we know about his violent habits, so,,,,, he handles his shit by physically pushing eren the fuck out of his life lmao. 
> 
> eren is like,,,, i get it my guy, but did you have to do me like this ??? lol, in seriousness tho, he just really really loves levi and seeing him be in so much turmoil and not knowing what to do and not being able to just -- fix it for him the way he can stitch together his wounds just kinda sucks. plus he really missed levi and that kind of greeting was pretty uncalled for lmao. also levis shit at explaining himself so erens like ? bro ???
> 
> ive looked forward to writing levi and hange talk for so fucking long. id argue shes the only proper friend he has in the show rn, im not 100% sure if erwin counts, and regardless, mans dead later anyway so like, rip. its just, hange has this way of working into levis head and figuring out what hes trying to say even when he cant express it, and picking up on actions you normally wouldnt simply because shes hange, and i like that levi can at least talk to someone, so hes not completely alone in this struggle of his. basically i love their relationship. 
> 
> that was very long i hope you enjoy my thoughts. 
> 
> anyway, im so thankful for you all who waited patiently for this chapter, and for those who've just shown up, and those whove been with me from the beginning. its all of you who push to me to continue when i have blocks like this, and its for you that i get to have a passion like this in the midst of all the chaos in my life, so thank you all for reading, and i hope i can bring you even just a bit of joy with this fic.
> 
> feel free to leave comments on notable things in the chapter, it makes my day to read and really motivates me, and i love interacting with you, even if im a little slow with the replies lol. 
> 
> anyway, take care of yourselves, ill see you next time : DD
> 
> stream dynamite by BTS --leaf


	11. For the Existence of Stygian Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soup, forgiveness, and a couple of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay loves : D, three things,
> 
> firstly, humble apologies that i am late. again. only slightly ! but still late. uni started back up and i just had a few bad weeks there, couldnt finish the first half of the chapter for the life of me, and kept not being productive lol. ill try to make sure it doesnt happen again, which leads me to my next point.
> 
> on updates, id like to remind you all that ive changed my upload schedule, and its in the beginning notes of the chapter ten, so please dont spend your precious hours worrying about me, i am simply wasting my time and failing uni, no problems here. which leads me to my last point.
> 
> id like to thank you all for the concerns. i saw many of you worrying for me in my last comment section, and it truly warms my heart that you all care this much about me, a stranger in your life. ill try my best so that you dont worry, but again, please dont spend that energy on me, i really am okay, i just need some more time nowadays.
> 
> anyway, this lovely chapter has been such a long time coming, its quite long too [literally over 8k holy fucking shit], so i hope that makes up for my lateness, enjoy : D

Eren tries his best to ignore how cold the water in the sink is when he dips his hands in the nth time. The rational part of him—the very small rational part of him—thinks the cold water is good right now, it should calm him down. It doesn’t, of course. “I mean who the fuck am I? Reiner? Annie?!” he says, eyebrows furrowed. He grips the plate in his hands far too tight, and he doesn’t even notice Armin flinch beside him when he accidentally flicks water up at him. “Seriously. Was I the one who tried to eat the love of his life? Why would he talk to me like that?” 

“Eren–” Armin tries. 

“No, because, I usually get it, okay. And I still get it, I get why he’s hesitant, I get why he wouldn’t want to see me. But why’d he do it like that? Specifically that,” Eren rants, all dishes forgotten in the dirty water. They weren’t even half done because Eren was taking his sweet time complaining between each wash. “Look, all I did was ask him why. He just has to say ‘because’ and I’d leave him alone, but no. All he says is ‘get out.’ I mean why would you do that? Am I not entitled to a reason? Do I not deserve that much after everything that happened? Seriously I–” 

“Eren!” 

“What?!” He raises his hands up in exasperation, and the water collected in the cup he ends up bringing with him splashes all over the counter. 

He blinks. 

He puts the sponge and cup back in the water. 

Armin sighs, stunned into silence. Eren had been talking about the same thing since he arrived at the house—since it happened, actually, Armin couldn’t keep track of how many times he’d cut Eren off from telling the same story. 

Eren had eaten with Hange earlier—something he’d been doing more frequently as they spent their days together on the field—and when no one else was up to the dishes with Armin, Eren had offered since he hadn’t helped with preparations. 

Armin was grateful for the help at first. 

At first. 

He bites his lip. “Would you stop rambling, maybe?” 

“But–” 

Armin brings up a hand of his own—precisely the one holding the drying rag, and makes sure to flick at Eren’s chest as he lifts his hands. He holds up his palms as if he could physically stop Eren’s rambles with the motion. “No buts,” he says. “You said it yourself, you understand why he did it, so can’t you just accept it?” 

“You weren’t there, Armin. You didn’t see the way he looked at me.” 

“And how did he look at you?” 

“I just told you!” Eren yells before Armin aggressively shushes him. He sighs, resting his hands on the edge of the sink. He stares down at the soapy water, watching bubbles burst as the memory of the other night plays in his head again. His lips part with a soft pop, almost pouting when he says, “Like he would talk to someone he hates or something. I don’t know how to describe it but it wasn’t the way he talks to me, okay?” he says, weighing on his voice when he says ‘me’. “It felt like all the time we spent together this past, what, half a year? Like none of it existed. Like he just met another titan shifter and assumed I was a threat.” 

That small rational part of Eren comes to the surface again, and he has to wonder if he’s gone overboard with the situation. To begin with, it’s already a bit hard to stay mad at Levi for anything—no matter how much he wants to—and though the words hurt to hear, he expected something like it to happen eventually. Armin hasn’t said anything yet, and Eren’s thoughts only burrow deeper into nonsense. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles. “The guy beats me to a pulp in front of an entire courtroom and it’s all good but the moment he tells me to just leave his room I act like Wall Rose got kicked in or something.” He wipes down his face with his dry forearm, moving to wash a cup. 

Armin makes a face Eren can’t quite decipher with just a peek out of the corner of his eye. He takes the cup Eren hands to him, drying it silently. A moment later, it’s his turn to sigh and lay his hands down on the edge of the sink. “Didn’t you just say you understand why he kicked you out?” 

“No I– I do get it, but not–” he stumbles, pausing to get his thoughts in order. “I understand why he didn’t want me there. I don’t understand why he thought it was okay to talk to me like that.” He puts his hands back in the cold water, fishing around for another dish— 

“Well, you weren’t exactly listening to him until he yelled at you, were you?” 

—and flicks water up at Armin, this time on purpose. “Armin,” he says, turning to look at him. Armin’s recoiled, face scrunched until he wipes it down with his sleeve. 

“What?” he says, and maybe he looks irritated. 

“You’re my friend, right?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Then be on my side, bastard.” 

Armin smacks him with the towel again, forcefully whipping the thing into Eren’s arm and relishing at his flinch and the pained look on his face. “I am on your side,” he says politely, drying the next dish as if nothing happened. “I'm just saying.” 

“Anyway,” Eren grimaces, begrudgingly getting back to work. “Look, I wasn’t listening to him only because I deserved an answer. I know that and he knows that, and instead of giving it to me he–” 

“I mean, it’s not like you haven’t gone against his orders before,” Armin says, interrupting Eren so casually he suspects Armin may not have been listening at all. “I guess with that in mind, it’s kind of weird that he’d be so… in your terms, ‘hateful’? this time around.” 

Eren sighs, resigning to entertain Armin’s thoughts. “Part of it could be that we’re back here. We could do pretty much whatever we wanted at the cabin when it was just the three of us, but being back…” he pauses, biting his lip. “The rules aren’t so lenient when someone could report any behaviour they find odd. He’s just being careful.” 

“Odd like you went to see him without the right authority?” 

“Yeah.” 

“But you being in his room couldn’t be considered odd anyway. Hange-san let you in, right?” 

“Hm. But if I go see him once and it goes well, I’ll keep doing it right? That’s when it can get dangerous, I think.” He pauses. He hands a bowl to Armin. “To be fair to him, I was being pushy, I know I was. I should probably stop that but I just–” 

Again, the thought crosses Eren’s mind that he may be the one overreacting. Perhaps he really put Levi in a bind—that he really did try and take too much, and Levi was forced to cut Eren off. Perhaps he made too many assumptions about Levi—got cocky about his ability to ‘read’ his emotions—so being hurt was a product of Eren’s own faults. Perhaps he was placing some form of blame on the wrong person. He slides over a handful of utensils, only to mumble, “Did I really screw up that badly?” 

“What do you mean?” Armin asks, glancing at him, features ridden with a new look of concern. 

“What if– what if I was the one who got it wrong?” 

“Why would you question yourself about this now? Don’t do that." He hits Eren lightly with his elbow. 

Eren shakes his head, as if the motion would rattle all his jumbled thoughts into place. “If I misunderstood his feelings even in the slightest, or maybe if he changed his mind, then– then I walked into his room like I had this…” he starts, motioning with his hand. “This upper hand on his feelings, like I knew what he was thinking. That’s so arrogant.” He purses his lips, trying to think back to Levi’s responses at the cabin. Not much has happened since then, but in the chaos of things, Eren never had the chance nor reason to mull over that conversation these past couple months, so while his nervous excitement from the time is freshly engraved in his memory, the details of what they spoke about are not. But he was so sure—he was so sure the captain liked him that he went and confessed himself, and it’s not like Levi ever denied anything. 

There’s a sharp pain on his temple, and Eren abruptly turns to find Armin hiding a hand behind his back. “Would you stop hitting me?” he yells—whisper-yells, to avoid another smack. 

“That was a flick, not a hit,” Armin clarifies. “And maybe if you stopped being stupid I’d stop hitting you.” 

Eren can’t find words to express his confusion—or was it offense he was feeling?—so all he can respond with is a contorted grimace, and maybe there was a pout mixed in there. 

Amin sighs, grabbing the last bowl in Eren’s hand and drying it haphazardly before tossing the towel somewhere. He turns to face Eren. “Listen. There’s no way he doesn’t like you, he literally told me this information himself. And besides, you do know what he’s thinking. He praised you for that, didn’t he?” 

“Wait wait, what do you mean ‘he told you himself’? What did he tell you? And when, what the hell? He was stuck to me practically all day every day,” Eren says, words blending together in his surprise and urgency. 

Armin slaps a hand over his mouth. “Oh,” he mumbles. “I’m not sure if I was allowed to tell you that.” 

Eren grips his shoulders. “Tell me right now or I’ll eat you next time I spot your ass during my experiments.” 

Armin’s expression is a mix of disgust and terror, shaking off Eren’s wet and dirty palms. “What kind of threat is that?” 

“Would you just tell me?” Eren almost whines. 

Armin looks very irritated. He sighs. “One time he came to yell at me for letting you leave the cabin and then he ended up admitting he liked you. Not in so many words, and I won’t be telling you what words ‘cause I’m not entirely sure I can say even this much, but… yeah, he said he likes you.” 

“What did you do to get him to say that?” Eren asks, a hint of a smile on his face. It’s a bit funny that Levi would be so unguarded as to admit such a thing to Armin. 

“Nothing,” Armin lies. Eren gives him a look. “Seriously, whatever, it’s not important. What’s important is that he definitely likes you, so would you stop worrying that you’re being arrogant, or whatever it was? You’re just being annoying and stubborn like always,” Armin finishes with a dismissive wave. 

Eren looks down, gripping his shirt. His eyes are thin, eyebrows furrowed in thought, and Armin sees this faraway look in his eyes. He suspects he hasn’t registered a single word of his response. 

Eren sighs, wordlessly shuffling to wash his hands. 

He was so sure Levi loved him. 

If Eren hadn’t thought so—with certainty—he wouldn’t have spoken his own feelings with such confidence. There’s no way he’s wrong—not about Levi’s feelings when they spoke at the cabin, but— “But what if he changed his mind?” Since they’ve come back and been suddenly thrust back into a life ruled by death and politics, things could have changed. He unplugs the sink, rinsing his hand once more. He doesn’t get the chance to clean the counter before Armin drags him to the dining table and sits with him. 

Armin drums his fingers on the old wood. “If he’s going to change his mind then he has a responsibility to tell you that before he kicks you out of his room with supposed hatred in his eyes. You said it yourself, didn’t you? You deserve to hear it from him.” 

“He doesn’t, though.” 

“What?” 

Eren leans back in his chair, slouching against the tough wood of the chair. It digs into his spine. “I deserve… something… for being kicked out so rudely, but he has no responsibility to tell me the details of our relationship. I took that burden away from him when I said I would accept whatever he was okay with, so if he’s going to go with us having no relation other than captain and soldier, then that’s what I have to deal with,” Eren explains, ignoring the look of sympathy on Armin’s face. 

He knows what it sounds like when he says it out loud—like he’s purposely given himself the short end of the stick and now feels upset about it. Really, he just wanted to give Levi whatever was most comfortable. He fixates on the cracks in the table, tracing them with the pad of finger. 

“Eren...” 

One of the cracks is too long, and he can’t find the end of it from where he sits. He gives up, expression hardening. “There’s a reason we haven’t spoken in weeks, Armin. I know he doesn’t want to see me, so I don’t even approach him apart from what’s necessary, which by the way is basically nothing since he has months of paperwork–” 

“You’re wrong.” 

“What?” 

“That.” Armin tilts his head to the side, ever so slightly. “That was wrong.” 

“What was?” 

“He does want to see you.” It seems like he’s realized something, having sat up straight just now. 

In contrast, Eren is quite confused. “What do you mean?” 

“He didn’t come to dinner today.” 

This time, Eren tilts his head. “What?” 

“We have a lot leftover, right? You didn’t eat with us, but neither did he.” 

“You just said that.” 

It seems like Armin is deaf to Eren’s words. “Eren, has he ever been absent when you have dinner with us?” 

Eren squints his eyes, and for a moment he contemplates remaining silent and seeing how long it takes before Armin notices. He sighs, resigning to entertain Armin’s thoughts once again—something must come of it. “Well, no.” 

“Right. And you know what? Every single time you’re not at dinner with us, neither is he. Just like today. He only comes to dinner to see you.” 

Eren shifts in his chair, pursing his lips. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch.” 

“It’s not,” Armin says, kicking at Eren’s legs. “I’m not kidding around, I only just noticed but that’s literally what’s been happening.” 

“Armin I promise you he doesn’t want to see–” 

“Can’t you just consider that he made a mistake when he yelled at you?” he interrupts, and Eren starts to think he should have carried out his little experiment from earlier and shut up. “He makes lots of those doesn’t he?” 

And it takes a moment, but once he registers what Armin’s said— “Hey–” 

“Ah, so he does.” Armin nods in understanding. 

Despite himself, Eren feels a little bit offended on the captain’s behalf. He didn’t make that many mistakes, did he? Maybe he did, but it’s not like anyone knew that, right? 

And Armin looks as though he hasn’t noticed Eren’s turmoil at all when he continues, saying, “Look, if you talk to him, you’ll probably find out he didn’t mean to be so harsh with you, okay? I think we all know he tends to make… questionable choices when he’s under pressure, at least every once in a while.” 

“We don’t all know that. You know that because you’re annoying and I know that because I spend too much time with him,” Eren mumbles, ignoring the unimpressed look he receives. And maybe he’s still a little offended at the suggestion that the captain makes bad choices. See, even if he did, only Eren gets to make fun of him for it. “Anyway, I think he meant it, this time. I feel like I pushed him over the edge.” 

“Let’s say that he did mean it. Are you mad at him for kicking you out?” 

“What? Of course not,” he says, all too quick to defend his feelings. “I’d never be mad at him, per se. I’m confused and a little upset, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Then what’s stopping you from talking to him about it? Pride? Fear?” 

“No, I just don’t want to upset him anymore. He has a lot to catch up on and he’s rejected me twice now. I should just drop it already.” 

“Weren’t you the one who said you deserve an explanation about his actions?” 

“I do, but...” And he deflates, sinking back in the chair again. It’s one thing to know he shouldn’t have been yelled at like that, and it’s another to go confront the captain about the same thing over and over again. There has to be a limit somewhere, a boundary he shouldn’t pass, and crossing it might turn into Eren pushing for and getting what he wants, when his intention is to let Levi decide. Confronting him about that night may be an opportunity for the captain to acknowledge his mistake, but it may also turn into an opportunity for Eren to cross his limits and force Levi to cave, regardless of whether it is his intention. He takes a deep breath. “...I also said I know what he’s going to say.” 

“And if you’re wrong?” 

“I’m not,” he says, again speaking too quickly. 

“Then, are you also considering the possibility that he won’t flat out reject you again?” 

And fucking hell, Armin’s asking too many questions. “Of course. I just don’t think I should push him into making a decision anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Eren’s fists tighten, and he can feel part of his resolve cracking. “What do you mean why not? He was so stressed about choosing that he decided to just not talk to me ever again. Me! He loves talking to me,” he grumbles. “Anyway, you’re beside yourself if you think I want to keep going when I’ve hurt him as much as I already have.” 

“What if you gave him another chance, talked to him, and let him decide for himself?” 

“I just said I don’t want to push him into–” 

“What if he chooses you, and being with you makes him happy? You’ll rob him of that future if you don’t do this.” 

And Eren pauses. Then, his cracked resolve breaks entirely, and Armin with his smart words stomps all over the pieces. He tightens his lips, trying to think of a counter-argument—anything that would justify him not confronting the captain after what Armin’s said. He lets out a bated breath, and his lips curl up at the corners, much to his annoyance. “Can you not be so good at persuasion?” 

Armin smiles. “It’s my specialty.” 

“So? What, should I go now?” 

“Is that even a question?” 

Well, it didn’t seem so obvious to Eren. “Wait, really? Right now? But he’s in his room, that’s weird.” 

“Oh and cuddling him to bed for six weeks in a row isn’t, I see—” 

“Hey!” Eren says, just barely keeping the volume down. He can feel the heat rise up his neck, unhindered, no thanks to Armin laughing at him about it. 

When Armin catches his breath, he pushes back in his chair, standing to go to the pot on the stove. “I’ll heat this back up. Taking it to him can be your excuse.” 

••• 

With one hand, Eren balances the tray against his chest, using the other to tentatively knock. A quiet scrape sounds from inside the room, and he grips the edges of the tray with white knuckles. 

Eren is the furthest from what he could call emotionally prepared, but the door opens anyway. Before him stands the captain in question, looking up at him with bored eyes. “I brought you dinner,” Eren says, holding the tray up higher. 

He holds his breath. 

The captain stands to the side, pulling the door open more. 

Eren breathes. 

He takes quiet steps into the room, bare feet curling upon stepping onto the cold floorboards of the captain’s room. With a glance, he deems the open window as the culprit for the chilly air, and, pushing away a teapot to make room for the tray, he moves to close it. “I don’t know if you can tell since you probably haven’t left the room, but it’s freezing in here,” he says, words punctuated with the click of the window latch. “The soup is warm, it’ll help if you have some,” he continues, turning to face the man. 

With his arms folded across his chest, the captain stands, back straight. He kicks the door closed behind him, raising his eyebrows at Eren. “I already had dinner,” he says. 

“I highly doubt a couple cups of lukewarm tea count as dinner, Captain.” 

The captain narrows his eyes at him. 

Eren sighs, stepping around the captain to carefully clear the mess of papers strewn about the desk. “Armin told me you weren’t at dinner, so I know you haven’t eaten. You weren’t even at breakfast, and I didn’t see you in the gardens for lunch,” he explains, ignoring the grey eyes pointedly boring a hole into his back. “I know you’ve got the authority around here, but I highly doubt Hange-san will leave you alone if I tell her you’re not eating properly.” When there’s nothing left to organize, Eren’s hands still, and he tries not to cower under the overwhelmingly heavy presence behind him. 

“My eating habits are none of your concern.” 

Eren bites his lip, knowing he’s not in the position to show his anger. The edges of the desk dig into his hands, and they begin to hurt. “It is my concern when Armin and I would spend hours in the woods looking for nuts and plants we could dry out to last for a few days,” he says, forcing himself to keep his voice calm. “It is when you used to look at me with an apology in your eyes when you thought I wasn’t looking because I didn’t eat for days on end when you needed it more,” he continues, trying not to picture what kind of face the captain is making. “It is when Armin tells me you only come to dinner if I’m there too,” he says, hoping the tremor in his voice was just his imagination. 

“If you’re going to whine and cry like you’re still in diapers because I don’t eat for a day, be grateful you didn’t know me in the Underground,” Levi grumbles, kicking the back of Eren’s knees to shove him away. 

Eren watches, slightly bewildered as Levi drops into his seat loudly, sitting with legs crisscrossed on the chair. 

“Sit,” Levi says, brushing hair off his forehead. 

Behind Eren is a plush sofa-chair, tucked into the corner between Levi’s desk and the wall. Eren hesitates a moment, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before his lips part with a pop, and he sighs. He sinks into the cushions, the cool of the fabric seeping into his own clothing to send a chill up his legs. 

Despite having spent the majority of his time sitting on his ass and catching up on old reports, the captain looks exhausted. Eren would guess that he probably favours sitting on his chair in his stupid way, which means he’d be working for hours hunched over his desk. More than once has Eren wandered into the kitchen in the middle of the night, only to bear witness to the captain asleep at the dining table, papers crinkled under his arms and tea gone cold. 

He doesn’t want to think about how stiff his back and shoulders must be. He doesn’t want to think about how the captain is probably throwing himself into mindless work—staying inside and off the fields where Eren is training—so he can escape the problem Eren poses. He doesn’t want to think about how the last time they spoke properly, he was being kicked out, and such could very well be tonight's outcome. 

The captain speaks first. “What’s this soup a cover for?” he asks. 

Leave it to him, biting right to the heart of the conversation. A certain fondness settles in Eren’s chest at the thought. “I’m sure you know what you did last time wasn’t right,” he says, eyes brimming with affection despite his pointed words—he can’t really help it, he’d say, if he had to answer why. “We have to talk about this. About us. Properly.” He doesn’t waver when Levi’s look turns cold and uncomfortable. He doesn’t notice how Levi’s toes curl under his thighs, how he starts tracing the lines on his palms—at least, he pretends not to notice. 

Silence fills the air for an extended period, and it’s Levi who looks away first. When he looks down, his hair falls over his forehead, obscuring his face. Eren loses sight of his expression, but he can imagine the furrowed brow, the small lick of the lips—the captain had this strange way of licking his lips; it’s rather quick, tongue poking out for the shortest of moments—akin to a cat, perhaps. 

Honestly, he found it quite cute, though he’d never tell Levi that—all it would accomplish is having the captain forcibly stomp the habit out of his system if only to prevent Eren from ever getting to witness something ‘cute’ of his ever again. 

Eren tilts his head as he contemplates what to do, eyes filled with affection, and he figures it’ll have to be him who opens the conversation. “I forgive you,” he says. 

The captain’s shoulders stiffen, and his fingers pause their tracing. 

“For how you treated me last time,” Eren explains. “It sucked, and it felt awful. I avoided you for a little while, honestly. Not that you would notice since you did the same thing,” he adds with a bitter laugh. “But, I didn’t want to see you after knowing you had it in you to talk to me like that. Armin’s probably sick of me after having to listen to me complain about the same thing over and over for weeks,” he rambles. 

With each sentence, the captain shrinks further and further into his chair, back no longer straight as he makes himself small. 

Eren doesn’t mean for his words to sting, but with the sight before him, he thinks he should probably shut up if he doesn’t want to feel horrible about himself later. After all, the obvious display of guilt is enough of an apology. “It sucked but, I forgive you.” 

Levi doesn’t speak for a moment, though the seconds stretch, and it starts to feel like minutes. He adjusts himself in his seat, switching the way his legs are crossed—one of them probably fell asleep, Eren muses—before his shoulders rise in a silent breath. “Why?” he mumbles. 

Eren shrugs, wondering if the sound of it is enough for Levi to figure out what he did. “Because I do,” he says, as though it were the simplest thing in the universe. When Levi makes no move to respond, Eren continues. “I know this is a difficult choice for you to make. I can be patient, you know.” 

And Levi does know, if the small shake of his head, paired with a huff—or, perhaps what could be named as his laugh—was anything to go by. “It’s not difficult for you?” 

Eren cracks, then, the corners of his lips lifting in a smile. He finally takes in a deep breath, the weight on his lungs lifting when he realizes this conversation will be quite easy for him. The plush cushion molds around his back as he sinks into it, bringing his feet up and crossing them in a similar fashion to the captain. He shakes his head slightly, fondness replacing the earlier nervousness. “I love you,” he says. 

Levi looks up, everything from confusion to anger swimming about in his eyes. “I–” he begins loudly, before he abruptly cuts himself off. His next breath is stilted before he murmurs, “I’m– I do. Too.” He grits his teeth, hastily returning his gaze to his fumbling hands. 

Eren bites down on his lip, and he has to remind himself to breathe, for he’s never seen the captain so unsure of his words before. It’s quite sweet, really, considering what he’s trying to say, and something blooms in his chest. Goodness, how could he possibly have questioned the captain’s feelings for him? With a shake of the head, he physically clears his running thoughts. “You love me too, so why is it so hard for you when it’s so easy for me? That’s what you want to know, right?” he asks. 

Levi’s nod is small and his head is tucked, but Eren sees the motion anyway. 

Eren sighs, contemplating his words. “It’s not that it’s not hard, I guess,” he starts. “I can recognize the difficult parts, where things can go wrong, why we probably shouldn’t…” There’s a certain bitter taste on his tongue, with those words. “I get it, I just– to begin with my burdens aren’t as heavy as yours. In the end, it’s not that hard for me to overlook the risks I’m taking,” he continues, and the words don’t eat at him—his lips form around them easily, voice clear and soft and in control for the first time in ages. “It’s not a difficult choice for me. Not when it’s you.” 

When Levi rubs at his eyes, Eren’s chest suddenly tightens, and his heart falls into his stomach. He’s but a second away from jumping out of his chair to give the captain a hug or apologize or wipe his eyes for him, but Levi’s hand comes away dry, and Eren’s muscles go slack again. A sigh of relief leaves his lips. 

Levi’s tears are completely unprecedented territory, and Eren’s not sure he can keep himself in one piece if he were to bear witness. 

The captain shakes his head slightly, and Eren swears he hears a scoff. “That really makes me sound like a shit person,” he mutters. 

Eren almost laughs—if one of them was being an objectively ‘shit person’ regarding their dilemma, it was definitely Levi—at least he recognized it in some way. His gaze absentmindedly travels up and down Levi’s figure. “It’s not like you’ve ever had a problem being the bad guy before,” he points out. 

And with his head still down, and thumbs still tracing the lines of his fingers, Levi says, “I want to be good to you.” 

Eren’s eyes go wide. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he can’t find the words. He’s come to a standstill, and when his hands begin to ache, he looks down to find he’s gripping the seat of the sofa far too tightly. 

His brows furrow and he sits up straight, leaning forward off the back of the cushion. “You–” Levi what? What did he want to say here? That he wasn’t treating Eren badly? That’s a lie, but even so, Eren hadn’t meant to imply that Levi was at a fault of any kind—that Levi needed to prove he could be good. 

Eren knows he can be good—hell, he was good, and caring and understanding almost all the time. At least, he was with Eren—it was really only the one time that he was being unfair, and with this one statement of his does it hit Eren that guilt must have been eating at Levi much more than he presumed. 

Regardless, he had no obligation to treat Eren as anything but a soldier—it was Eren who took that burden from him in the first place, so what the hell was this? 

“You don’t have to pick,” Eren spouts, babbling off words he’s not sure he knows what he’s doing with. “You don’t have to explicitly tell me that you want to choose me or that you want– that you want to be in a relationship with me or that you don’t or anything. That’s hard, I get that so just– just tell me what you want me to do right now and–” he stumbles, talking much too fast for his head to catch up. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s trying to say even as he says it, he just knows he has to say something or this won’t work. This conversation will end prematurely and Eren will have to leave and they’ll both spend the night bitter and resentful and that absolutely cannot happen. 

He forces himself to breathe. “Tell me what you want right now and... we’ll go from there,” he finishes quite lamely. 

Levi takes an audible breath, deep and long and loud, before he lets it out, and he finally looks up again. His lips look significantly more red, as though he’d been chewing on them the whole time, and his expression is still tired. 

They’re not touching, Eren notices. 

When they talk, usually, they’re touching. 

Even when they fought last time, Levi had a hand pressed against Eren’s chest, and they were breathing the same air. When they spoke at the cabin, Eren had hands on his cheeks or was holding Levi’s. Eren’s learned that Levi quite likes touch, whether the touch is violent or loving, he responds to it. 

But they’re not touching right now, and it feels like that moment when he’s sewing—when he makes too many stitches with the needle and if he can’t grip the tip of it to pull through, all the stitches will come apart and he’ll have to re-do them—it feels like that moment, because they don’t have a hold on each other. 

It’s precarious and untouched territory for them to be together but not touch—not have their elbows knocking together or their feet fighting away under the blankets or a small back against a larger chest. 

The lack of touch is why it feels like things could go wrong at any given moment, Eren finally realizes. 

Even so, he’s but a hair’s breadth too far to take Levi’s hand. 

“What should I say, Eren?” Levi asks, breaking the delicate silence. “What should I want right now to be good to you?” 

Again, Eren is at a loss for words. The sincerity he hears is so unexpected he can hardly process it—what a contrast from their last meeting. “You–” he stumbles. “Don’t think like that. I can’t tell you, okay? This is about you, what you want from me, not the other way around.” 

Levi blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. He licks his lips. “I don’t know.” 

“H-huh?” 

“I don’t know anything. I want you to fuck off. I want to kick you off my squad and send you running back to Erwin with your tail between your legs so I don’t have to deal with this shit anymore,” he says, voice gravelly and thick from all the talking after weeks of little to no use. “At the same time I– these past two months without you–” he falters, slouching back in his chair with a thump. “...I’d rather have stitches in my side again.” 

It’s only when Levi’s eyes narrow at him does Eren realize he’s grinning. 

Then he snorts. Then he laughs. 

He leans back into the couch, a hand over his mouth to muffle the loud sound at this hour of the evening, and the whole time, he feels Levi’s glare on him. “Have you gone insane?” 

Levi’s voice only makes him laugh harder, and he sinks, shirt riding up his back as he brings his feet up to hide his face, both behind his hands and bent legs. “It’s just–” he tries, but the sound bubbling in his throat cuts him off. 

Levi clicks his tongue, out of the corner of his eye, Eren spots a pen being thrown at him. In weak defense, he raises his hands, though the pen hits him square in the chest. “Stop! St–stop! You were just really cute,” he explains hastily, barely catching his breath in time to speak. He peeks an eye open to make sure Levi doesn’t have another small object to assault him with, and when he spots Levi slouched back in his chair, Eren puts his hands down. 

“Cute?” Levi repeats, and he looks as though he’s just been scandalized. 

It only makes Eren want to laugh harder, but, with elbows on the arm rests, he pushes himself to sit up, finally swallowing his giggles. His cheeks hurt and his eyes have watered and he can’t push away his smile. “Yeah,” he says fondly, taking a deep breath to bring himself fully under control. “You suck at talking, you know that?” he asks, shaking his head. 

Levi clicks his tongue again, eyes shifting to where Eren rolls the pen back to him on the desk. With a finger, he stops it just before it falls. “You piece of shit,” he mutters, staring at Eren with dead eyes. “You brat. Idiot. Bastard. Fuck you,” he swears, folding his arms across his chest. “Cute,” he scoffs belatedly. 

Eren shuts his eyes, biting down on his lip to force away any laughter. He rubs at his eyes, still slightly teary, before catching Levi’s gaze again. “You’re also hilarious,” he says, stretching his arms high above his head, hands in fists and nose scrunched. 

If Levi had it in him, he might say Eren was cute too. 

“I don’t think the others would get it, but,” Eren continues, shifting in the chair to rest his elbows on Levi’s desk. He leans forward, back curving as he rests his head down, folded arm serving as his pillow. He looks at Levi again, and a warm smile paints his lips. “You really have your moments. They’re just too scared to laugh at anything you say, even if it’s funny.” 

Levi shifts his legs again, switching the way they’re crossed—they probably fell asleep again. “They’re right to be,” he says, leaning forward to flick at Eren’s forehead. “You’re on thin ice, bastard.” 

Eren only shakes his head, enamoured and, quite flattered at the admission of his somewhat special treatment. 

Then, Levi sighs—it’s audible and long and it weighs on the atmosphere. He starts tracing the lines on his fingers again, and the smile upon Eren’s lips fades. 

Levi shifts his chair closer to the desk, folding an arm to pillow his chin on the dark wood. 

Like this, they’re close, breathing the same air, and Eren can’t place his eyes anywhere but Levi’s grey ones—or were they blue? His breath catches, and he shifts, resting his chin on his arm too. He brings a hand up, brushing Levi’s longer strands of hair behind his ear. His lips curl at the edges as he looks at his captain, cheeks warm and eyes bright. 

“Eren,” Levi says, voice quiet. 

“Mm,” he acknowledges, thumb now absentmindedly brushing over the captain’s temple. 

“What should we do?” 

Eren’s heart clenches. His captain—the ever-capable Captain Levi, in charge of humanity’s greatest weapon, with the direct trust of Commander Erwin, gifted and intelligent and so skillful he practically accomplishes the impossible—has just asked him for guidance. 

Eren’s gaze shifts to Levi’s arm, studying the folds of the cloth where his chin meets it, the colour, the fabric texture. He thinks. He has to be careful with his words—while Levi is asking him for help, he can’t very well steer the conversation to an outcome he himself wishes for—the goal is still to seek what Levi desires. 

He takes a deep breath, long and slow, looking up again. “What do you want from me, Captain?” he asks once again, tone laced with patience. His voice is deep and warm, and he’s more than comfortable like this, bare and unfiltered before his captain, with everything he has to offer. 

Levi doesn’t respond for a while, and in Eren’s periphery he can see the steady, stable rise and fall of his shoulders pause. 

He bites his lip, and Levi blinks. 

Levi’s shoulders finally fall, and he grips Eren’s hand from behind, locking their fingers together. “Tell me what to do, Eren,” he mumbles. 

If Eren thought he looked exhausted upon walking in, he no longer has a word to describe how tired the captain looks now—how drained he sounds. From such a proximity, Eren can trace every sign of fatigue, from his inability to make this choice for himself to his clear irritability to the headache Eren knows has formed if the removal of his hand from Levi’s temple was anything to go by. 

He feels his eyes go hot, and his vision blurs. His lips quiver and he has to bite down on them, holding his breath to prevent choking on it. He closes his eyes, pressing his lips into his arm as he tries to breathe, taking shaky breaths through his nose, and his chest tightens around his lungs. 

A single tear escapes. 

He hears more than sees Levi shift before he feels a thumb on his cheek, so gentle the contact is merely a ghost of a touch. He sniffles loudly, then. Lifting and leaning his head back, he rubs at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, pinching at the inner corners. 

“Nothing to cry about, brat,” Levi says as Eren resumes his previous position, this time with slightly damp cheeks. 

Eren huffs. “Oh, shut up,” he mutters, corners of lips curling against his will. “I love you. You can’t expect me not to cry after talking like that.” 

Levi rolls his eyes, and from so close, it looks quite funny—Eren cracks, small smile painting his expression. 

“Tell me what to do,” Levi repeats, this time lacking the heartbreaking tone. 

The first thing that pops into Eren’s mind is how desperately he wishes to respond with a kiss—it wouldn’t take much, he’d have to lift himself slightly off the chair at most, to be close enough to press their lips together. 

He doesn’t. 

Instead, he purses his lips in thought, tightening his fingers around Levi’s. “Let me rephrase,” he murmurs. “Would you like me to spend this evening with you? Stay or go, that’s all I ask,” he says. He can almost see the gears turn behind Levi’s eyes. “Even if you tell me to leave, it’ll be okay. I’ll always be here no matter what you decide, so–” 

“Leave.” 

Eren’s breath catches. “L– leave?” 

“Leave,” the captain repeats. “Leave, go heat this soup again, and make me tea. Then come back and stay the evening.” 

Eren grins, sitting up. “You’re an awful person,” he mutters, standing. “Awful. You and your shitty sense of humour,” he grumbles, all the while shaking his head, smile plastered on his cheeks. 

Levi leans back in his chair, laying his head on the backrest to look up at Eren, hair fanning back to expose his face entirely. 

Eren pauses behind him, looking down, tracing his face with hungry eyes. He’s missed this face so much more than he has the capacity to explain. “What?” he finally asks, voice quiet, laden with affection. 

“You just said I’m hilarious. ‘You really have your moments’, or something.” 

It takes a moment for the words to register, then another moment to recall his words from earlier, and in the next moment, he tries to suppress his laugh by pursing his lips. 

“Idiot.” 

Eren huffs, furrowing his eyebrows in fake offense. “Hey,” he starts. “Fine, then my sense of humour sucks too, happy?” 

And for the first time in two months, Eren sees his favourite smile again. Sure, it’s small and upside down, but it’s a smile, and it’s directed at him. 

Only him. 

Suddenly, one of the oil lamps go out, and the room dims to near darkness. Levi doesn’t even blink at the change, let alone move to fix it—his eyes stay trained on Eren, boring into him as if he were drinking in every bit of affection he’d missed out on all these weeks. Eren feels the weight of the newly intimate atmosphere press down on his shoulders. 

He lifts a shaky hand, heart pounding and lungs caving in as he rests it on Levi’s temple. His thumb traces down the longer strands, and Levi’s smile fades. From this angle, he’s noticed the shorter parts of the hair have grown slightly, and he fleetingly wonders what schedule the captain has to maintain it. 

The longer he looks into Levi’s eyes the more his thoughts become clouded, and he has to remind himself why he stood up in the first place. He swallows thickly, clearing his throat. He tries to ignore how his legs feel weighed into the floor, the buzzing sensation making its way down his arms and into his fingers, how he can barely take a breath to speak, fearing that the sound would break the spell. “I– I should uh...” he mumbles, unable to put the words in the right order. He shakes his head ever so slightly. “...uhm, I should probably... go now. Heat that up...” he barely finishes. 

“Hm,” is the curt response. 

Despite what Eren said, his feet are glued to the floor—there’s something he wants to do. He’s not sure if he should, no inkling to what Levi would be okay with after just barely accepting Eren’s presence as more than a soldier. But here he sits, staring at Eren as though pulling his gaze away would cause him to vanish, letting Eren touch, saying nothing to encourage him leaving, making no motion to fix the lighting situation. 

Eren’s heart drops into his stomach, weighed down by nerves, and he places both hands on Levi’s shoulders. Levi simply blinks at him—he doesn’t shake his hands off, nor do the hands in his lap even twitch, let alone move to slap Eren’s touch away. He doesn’t know if that means Levi’s guessed what he wants to do and is giving him permission, or if he simply doesn’t suspect anything. 

He leans down anyway. 

He presses his lips to the captain’s forehead, firmer than last time. His eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed with tension, and his heart thumps in his ears. 

He wonders what thoughts cross the captain’s mind—wonders whether his heart pounds in his ears, or if his lungs tighten. Did his stomach flip? Did his hands tremble? Did his affection feel like it was about to overflow, bleeding out of his chest and into every part of his body, only to weigh down his limbs? Or perhaps his thoughts would cloud over. Did he feel these things the same way Eren did? What if he felt them weaker than Eren? What if he felt them stronger? 

Eren couldn’t know. 

He lingers for a while, longer than last time, longer than he should. When he finally pulls away it’s because he’s run out of breath—he’d been holding it without realizing. 

A loud pop sounds in the room when he separates, and he stands up straight again, biting his lip. The taste of the captain’s skin lingers on his mouth, and he presses the back of his hand onto it. He sees it tremble, and out of the corner of his eye, sees the captain’s eyes flutter open. 

He lets out a bated breath. His hand falls to his side. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting again, and with each passing second, his heart pounds louder. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Was... was that allowed?” he whispers. 

Levi blinks. “No.” 

Eren stills. He forces another breath down his closed throat. “If I tried to do that again, would you stop me?” 

Levi smiles. “No.” 

Eren’s hands still tremble from the built-up nerves, but his heart quiets, then he grins, then he laughs. It’s gentle, more breath than sound, really, and he has to shut his eyes, shoulders shrugging up to his ears when warmth blossoms in his chest. He can hardly process the feeling—what was it again? Peace? Relief? Contentment? Or perhaps it was happiness. What if it were simply love? 

He shakes his head, failing to bite back a smile. In a burst of confidence, he presses his hands to Levi’s cheeks and pecks his nose all in one motion. When he pulls away, in the split second before he steps out of Levi’s hitting distance, he spots his widened eyes. 

“What the fuck?” 

Eren covers his mouth with one hand to muffle his loud laughter—he might wake someone up, but Sina save him; he truly can’t help it. The last thing he feels before he’s out the door is a sting on his back, and he presumes Levi threw his pen at him again. 

"Bastard,” he hears, the faint grumble barely making it to his ears halfway down the hall. 

He holds the tray firm before spinning on his heel, stupidly happy face on display to Levi through the still open door. “I’ll be back,” he says softly, and the warmth in his chest only grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stygian Blue: simultaneously dark and impossibly saturated; a forbidden colour; an impossible colour; an imaginary colour that can be seen temporarily by looking steadily at a strong colour until some of the cone cells become fatigued, temporarily changing their colour sensitivities, and then looking at a markedly different colour.
> 
> ••• 
> 
> goodness gracious me, what a resolution. 
> 
> honestly, i love writing them fight, because after a fight, i get to write glorious sweet moments like this. they crash and get angry and yell at each other and then they come back from that stronger than before and that concept is very Sexy to me. 
> 
> i really dont know if levi is out of character, tbh. there were a few lines where i thought, fuck, would he even say/do this ? but i imagine, if hes softened up so much around eren, it would make sense. his usual curtness and spite in the way he speaks is still there, he still sucks at communication and all, but i dont doubt he would at least try to convey his actual feelings for eren after weeks and weeks of guilt eating at him, knowing hes treated eren badly. srsly, let me know what you think, id love to hear your thoughts and interpretations. 
> 
> now, chant it with me. armin mvp, armin mvp, armin mvp, lets fucking gO. this man. always does the most. i also love writing them banter. were talking about erens heartfelt emotions ? yes, but we must also flick water at each other and swear. 
> 
> eren is literally just. lmao. im literally making this man a saint. [and maybe he is the embodiment of a person i want in my life but dont have, created within the confines of erens beautifully strong personality and intense emotional understanding, minus his denseness about love, but youll never know the truth, i guess : D]
> 
> as always, love you all, let me know what you think of the [absurdly long] chapter, i love knowing what you think, good or bad, i mean that, if something i wrote frustrated you, i seriously want to know what it is lol. anyway,
> 
> listen to accident by woodz and preorder BTS' new album BE, coming out in november : D --leaf


	12. A Bridge Between Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Socks, warmth, and absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys dont be mad at me lol i just,,,, bad exam season lol im here now

It’s early. 

Too early. 

Not a single other soul is awake in their temporary headquarters—aside from Levi, of course. Eren had fallen asleep in his captain’s room the previous night, passed out on the little sofa to the sound of Levi scratching away at his forms. A mere few hours later, he awoke to find the still-dark room empty. 

His tired, heavy feet carry him down the creaky steps in search of a certain small man. He’ll probably be in the kitchen, Eren thinks, as he rounds the corner and- 

Ah, there he is. 

As he thought, there Levi stood, back to Eren as he waited for his water to boil on the stove. 

Eren’s lips curl at the sight, the captain’s lean figure prominent with the lamp’s golden light lining his body. His hair is a slight mess, and though he’s most definitely noticed Eren’s presence behind him, he makes no move to fix it. Eren has to strain to hear it, but it’s there—the periodic drumming on the counter. He wonders if Levi counts how many times he drums before his water boils. It’s easier to hear when the captain sniffles, and Eren’s chest clenches in endearment. 

“Sleep well?” Levi murmurs, voice more gravelly than usual—he slept, at least, that was good. 

Eren shuffles toward him now, bare feet curling against the chilly floorboards as he makes his way. “Would have slept better if I woke up to you,” he says, and he’s sure the smile on his face is in his voice too. 

Things have been better with Levi. They would spend evenings—even nights, here and there—together when they could, when it was safe to. Even if they didn’t talk, they would spend time in each other’s presence—it could get quite therapeutic to sit in silence with the one he loved. Maybe they would read together—Levi liked showing Eren some of his favourite books, ones he’d asked Hange to get for him before they left. Other times Levi would work, and Eren would read alone, perhaps just sit there and watch him too. Sometimes, he popped into Levi’s room just to take a nap, and then be on his way. 

Levi was receptive to this kind of relationship—one where nothing was explicit, where they spent time together but never did anything too incriminating. He openly enjoyed himself, whether it was covering Eren with a blanket once he’d fallen asleep, or telling Eren why he was wrong for disliking a certain book, he would show it in some way. 

It was nice. It felt good to finally rid the major turbulence that was finding the boundaries of their relationship. 

So when his captain stands here in the kitchen, welcoming Eren with a greeting, Eren is almost overwhelmed by how easy it is—how simple it was to love him, even with vague boundaries. He’s giddy enough that he forgoes toning down how annoying he could be, and throws his entire body onto Levi, resting his arms and chin over his shoulders. 

Levi grunts under the weight, shifting to situate Eren off his joints. “I wanted tea and you were asleep. Not my fault you didn’t get to see my face.” 

Eren presses his cheek to Levi’s temple, feeling how cold his body is. He hugs his arms tight around Levi’s shoulders, then, adjusting when Levi tucks his chin atop Eren’s folded arms. “I feel like you love tea more than you love me,” he sighs. 

“I do.” 

Eren rolls his eyes because Levi isn’t facing him to see it. The water has finally boiled and Levi shifts to reach for a second cup. Eren unwraps one arm, stretching it to reach for a spoon and the sugar tin. He watches as Levi carefully pours the water into the teapot, seeing it colour from the tea leaves momentarily before it seeps through the sieve and into the pot. He leans forward to pull the two cups closer to him, and Levi makes a noise of discomfort. “You’re too damn heavy.” 

Eren sighs, fighting away the smile that threatens to give him away. “I’m too heavy, I’m too tall, my titan abilities are creepy, I shouldn’t grow my hair… is there anything about my appearance you don’t actually hate?” he muses. He lifts the lid of the sugar tin, measuring out the first teaspoon into his cup. 

After a moment of deliberation, Levi says, “Your eyes.” 

Eren pauses—he hadn’t expected sincerity. He licks his lips, feigning nonchalance to hide the warmth spreading in his chest. His stomach flips, and he reasons that there’s no way Levi could have felt it. “Mm? Such a romantic, Captain,” he teases, drawing out the word. 

Levi lifts a shoulder to smack Eren’s jaw. “Shut it, bastard. The sun hasn’t even shown it’s damn face and you’re already giving me a hard time.” 

Eren shakes his head, biting back a laugh—he feels it might irritate his crabby little captain even more. He puts a second, then a third teaspoon of sugar into his cup, and then a silent fight occurs between their hands when Eren goes to put sugar in Levi’s cup—Sina knows why Levi enjoys this stuff without sugar, but damn Eren if he didn’t try to mess with the captain’s system every chance he got. “You have the taste buds of a child,” Levi always accused, as if he didn’t have a sweet tooth of his own. 

Eventually, Eren pulls his weight off the captain, and they make it to the dining table, Eren sat on one end and Levi adjacent to him round the corner. Their elbows knock together where they rest on the table, and Levi rests his bare feet atop Eren’s so he doesn’t have to put them on the cold floor. “Can’t you just wear socks?” 

“If you go back upstairs and get them for me, sure,” Levi says, taking a sip. 

Eren rolls his eyes while the captain’s vision is hidden behind his cup. He leans back in his chair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—the sun would rise soon, no point in thinking he could get more rest after this. He stretches his arms over his head, loosening the muscles that tightened having slept curled onto the small sofa. He leaves his arms to rest on his head, looking at Levi. “Did you go to bed last night or did you fall asleep on your desk again?” 

“I wonder,” Levi muses with a pointed lift of the eyebrows. 

“We should just donate your mattress, honestly.” 

“Good idea, talk to Hange about it for me.” 

Eren sighs yet again, staring up at the ceiling. It’s more visible now, with the light of dawn seeping through the shutters—or maybe his eyes were just getting used to the dim lighting. Little time passes before he feels slight shivers, gooseflesh forming on his exposed forearms. He purses his lips, clicking his tongue. “I really do hate it here. There’s nothing to do.” 

Levi digs his toes into Eren’s feet under the table. “And what the fuck do you have to do with your time aside from training?” 

Eren aggressively shuffles his foot until Levi lets up. “...nothing.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Levi says, words punctuated with the placement of his teacup onto its plate. 

Eren brings his arms down from his head, resting them in his lap and slouching forward. “Still,” he sighs. “It’s cramped, it’s always, always cold, and it’s really hard to sneak to your room without someone noticing.” He pauses. “And I do want to do other things with my time, there’s just nothing to do.” 

Levi shifts his focus to Eren now, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the point, idiot. We’re stuck in this shit place in the hopes that the military police will find it too bothersome to chase us. Hopefully they leave us alone until winter ends—” He puts extra emphasis on ‘winter’, mocking Eren for complaining about a log cabin being cold in the middle of winter. “—and you can get some training done in secret. In short, you have nothing to do with your time aside from training.” 

Eren drops his head onto the backrest, ignoring the way it digs into his neck. “You’re so annoying.” 

“Fuck off.” 

Eren glances at him out of the corner of his eye and finds him hiding a smile behind his cup. “So,” he begins, facing him properly again. “Did you decide to leave tomorrow or are you going to wait till next week?” 

Levi takes a moment to finish his sip. “Tomorrow. If I wait any longer it might snow and it’ll be even harder to travel.” 

Eren pouts, and this time he means it. “You’ll be gone for a whole month. How did that even get approved?” 

“Hange will be here with you, and we pretty much lied and said there would be no experiments going on. I need to be with Erwin to plan for a few important matters that will take place soon. And—” 

“Yeah yeah I know the rest, I’m just complaining because I’ll miss you a lot,” he waves off. 

Levi pauses then, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table as he reaches. He places a hand on Eren’s jaw, pulling him forward, thumb brushing back and forth over his now warm cheek. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll come back,” he whispers. 

Eren smiles, head tilting ever so slightly, eyes softening in affection. He leans forward in kind, and a warmth blooms in his chest when Levi tucks his head down, allowing Eren to press a kiss to his forehead. “I know,” he says softly as he pulls away. 

Levi’s hand drops then, too, and they both lean back in their seats again. 

Levi takes another sip, and this time Eren follows before Levi speaks. “You can’t be in my room tonight you know, everyone will be up early tomorrow to see me off.” 

Eren frowns at the statement. “Yeah, for a second I thought we could spend your last night together but…” 

“If you can think of an excuse for you being in my room that doesn’t sound suspicious, then sure, we can spend the night together.” 

Eren lightly shoves at his shoulder. “You know I don’t have shit like that, and besides, you’re asking me at the crack of dawn, my brain is hardly awake enough to process critical thinking questions.” 

“I could ask Armin in his sleep and he’d answer me straight.” 

“You really are annoying, aren’t you?” 

“Cut your hair and maybe I’ll consider toning it down.” 

“Seriously, give me a break about it already. It’s not like it’s long enough to get caught in my gear,” he bites back. “Gear that I barely ever use by the way,” he adds. 

Levi bites his lip, and Eren is a little threatened by whatever’s to come. “If I cut it for you, would you agree to do it then?” 

Eren opens his mouth to protest, but it seems he was right to feel threatened. “You make a great argument, but I’m tempted to say no purely out of spite.” 

Levi scoffs, downing the last of his cup. “I was waiting for that bullshit answer before I even said my piece.” 

Eren feels a bit scandalized, shoulders raising in defense. “Can’t you just let my poor hair be?” He brushes it back, as if he needed to protect it from Levi’s sharp words. Levi leans forward again, pulling Eren’s hand down only to place his own by Eren’s ear, playing with the strands now long enough to frame the young soldier's face. He tucks some of it behind Eren’s ear, smoothing it down before twisting the rest between his fingers. He plays, and Eren’s expression softens. 

“It’s nice,” his captain whispers, and Eren can feel the heat of his words smooth over his cheek in their proximity. Shivers travel down his body from where Levi’s delicate fingers meet his skin, and he no longer feels cold—he may even be a little too warm, a buzz making its way down his arms, passing by his heart and down into his stomach, before spreading to his legs. He bites his lip, breath catching in his throat. 

They’re too close. 

“If… If it’s nice, why ask me to cut it?” 

Levi pulls his thin fingers from the tangle of Eren’s hair, tucking the rest behind his ear before wrapping his hand at the base of Eren’s nape, tangling his fingers in the brown strands and pulling him even closer. 

Eren’s heart hammers against his ribcage, trapping his lungs behind it’s pulse, and his throat closes. The buzz of warmth spreading through his body has become uncomfortable. 

Levi tilts his head up, placing his lips right by Eren’s ear. Their faces are so close yet they don’t touch, and Eren surprises himself with the desire to push Levi away. 

The captain does no such thing. Instead, he takes a breath, whispering, “It makes you look very desirable.” His breath fans by Eren’s ear. 

Eren’s thoughts come to a halt, and he can’t form a response, breath choking him. “W… wha-” he stutters, when Levi abruptly pulls away. He pushes back in his chair, taking it to its regular position and backing away from Eren. He takes his hand with him, even pulling his feet away, leaving Eren to look at him through a clouded daze and confusion in his brows. 

Levi doesn’t meet his gaze, instead moving to pour himself and Eren another cup of tea. 

A moment later, Historia is making her way down the creaky stairs. 

••• 

“This feels so weird, having him be gone. I feel like I’ll see the captain more times in one day than I saw him in the whole half year before we moved in with him,” Armin says, removing the next pin in the cloth to make room for his stitch. 

Eren chuckles, tearing the end of a new piece of string. They’d been sat here the past couple hours repairing everyone’s clothing. It was boring work, repetitive and mind numbing because of how long it would take to do something so simple, but it gave him and Armin an excuse to talk while everyone else was out. It was rare to get a moments’ peace before the sun went down, and even then it was questionable given that Levi wasn’t here to kick everyone back to their rooms when it got too loud—with Hange, she almost encouraged the noise, joining in on whatever fun everyone was having. 

As much as Eren appreciated the semblance of normalcy—having these leisure days of training with little feeling of imminent death—it could drain his energy easily, given how accustomed he’d become to quiet nights with the captain instead. 

“I might have to agree,” Eren says after he finally gets the thread through the needle. 

“Didn’t you live with him?” Armin says, eyebrows raised in accusation. 

Eren kicks at his foot. “I avoided him too much. I’d only seen him during training and maybe dinner. He was gone a lot too, off dealing with other people.” 

Armin nods, and silence takes over again as Armin concentrates on the closing stitch. The beam of light Eren had been using to focus suddenly disappears, and he turns to find clouds blanketing most of the sky—he briefly wonders if the rain he expects might be snow tonight. It was especially cold the last few days. Their current location was much closer to the mountains than any other headquarters they’d camped—he wonders if Levi was faring well in the city’s weather, it must be raining a lot, and he’d really grown a dislike to rain since his injury. 

“Do you ever miss the cabin?” 

Eren has to pause to process the coincidence, and reassure himself that Armin can’t read minds. When he collects himself, he says, “Oh you mean when he was sick and dying half the time?” 

Armin rolls his eyes, most likely regretting that his needle isn’t free to poke Eren. “No idiot, the privacy,” he says, pausing to undo a wonky stitch before adding, “Don’t think I don’t notice you going to his room after dinner and not leaving all night.” 

Eren sits up in his chair, eyes widening. “You what?” 

Armin glances at him, laughing at his expression. “Relax, I only notice because I’m paying attention.” Though skeptical, it’s enough to make Eren sit back. “Besides, my room is right next to yours, you think I can’t hear when your door opens once and then never again? I’m not gonna assume you’re visiting Jean all night.” 

Pinching to hold his current stitch, Eren drops his hand to the table, the other supporting his head on the table. “Of course it’s this stupid old cabin and it’s creaky joints giving us away. I hate this place. It’s abnormally dusty too, you know that? Clean one thing one day and the next it looks like it hasn’t been used in ten years.” 

“You’re right about that,” Armin says with a tilt of the head. “A word of advice,” he starts, continuing when Eren nods. “Unfold your blanket before you leave. Last time we did laundry, Jean was wondering when you finally learned to make your bed.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, sighing. “He’s too nosy.” 

Armin sinks down in his chair, far more than necessary, and Eren wonders what the hell he’s doing until Armin’s kicked his elbow off the table from below. With a glare, he takes his cue to continue stitching. 

“Did you guys get to talk when he left?” 

Eren bites his lip, shaking his head. He thinks back to the day—in all honesty, it was a good morning. Everyone was awake early and in good spirits. Sasha had gone all out on breakfast, and everyone had gathered around the door saying their loud bye’s and well wishes. Some of them even asked for him to bring some things back from the city, and Hange asked for a drink of some kind. Makes sense, given how boring this place was. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten a moment alone with the well-loved captain, and he even suspected Levi was avoiding him as well—he can’t really blame him for it, but not sitting next to Eren during breakfast was a little unnecessary, he thinks. There was only one moment they shared, but it was so brief, Eren could hardly even call it that. It was just as Levi was out the door, looking back at them all—they managed to lock eyes, and Eren took his chance to mouth ‘I love you’. Then, the captain turned, the door shut, and he was gone. 

That was it, really. 

“We didn’t, but we spent the night before that together. We talked that morning too, so it’s okay.” Eren brings his work into his lap so he can look down, hopefully hiding the heat pooling in his cheeks at the memory of their conversation. He hopes Armin isn’t paying too much attention to him, or he’ll notice. 

“How are things? With him, I mean.” 

Eren acknowledges his question with a nod, taking silent, deep breaths to calm the suffocating heat climbing his chest. “We’re fine. Better. We spend a lot of time together now, which is nice.” He uses the repetitive stitching to keep himself in check, though continues to hide his face. When Armin doesn’t respond for a while, he supposes he’ll continue. “We don’t do much, I guess. I sit in his room while he minds his business. Sometimes we read, sometimes I help him with stuff…” 

Eren thinks back to their nights together—when he says it out loud, it really does seem like they don’t do much together, but truthfully, he always feels like there’s more. There isn’t, not when he gets down to it, but, just the act of talking feels like a lot. Uncovering the captain’s very reserved personality is a feat of it’s own, and having the opportunity to talk to him all night gives Eren plenty of time for it. It’s fun for him, relaxing and energizing all at once, listening to him explain why he liked a book, complain about how stupid and mind numbing paperwork is, detail why certain teas brew a certain way and openly trash teas that don’t make sense to him. 

One time, during these complaints about paperwork, Eren offered to help. “My handwriting is probably better than yours too, whoever’s on the receiving end will be grateful,” he’d teased. After Levi pinched his ear to high hell, he pulled out a second pen and sorted out the forms that weren’t confidential, leaving him to it after telling him which parts to leave blank for Levi to finish up later. Even nights like that, where he’d actually been left with more work, were nice. 

“Sometimes he’ll let me, uhm,” he mumbles, voice dropping to a whisper when the thought pools in. He can’t very well explain the more intimate moments—those were for them to share, for his cheeks to warm to on his own time. He definitely made a mistake starting the sentence, because his mind travels to the night Levi abruptly sat in his lap, wordlessly throwing his legs over the armrest and leaning against him with a book until he fell asleep, right there, the whole night. It was immensely uncomfortable, and very endearing. “He’ll let me do things for him…” he mumbles under his breath, trying to get the next stitch in the right place. 

It’s silent for a moment, and then, “You’re totally lying,” Armin says, and Eren can hear the grin in his voice. 

“I’m not,” he protests, however futile the attempt. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” Armin says, bursting with laughter when Eren whips his head up with a glare. It’s no more intimidating than the needle in his hand given how pink he is, and he looks even more embarrassed to be caught red-cheeked than anything else. 

Eren tries to be angry at how amused Armin is, but he’s too warm to think of anything to say, and he tosses his work down with a grumble of “I need some damn water,” or something of the sort, while he calms himself down. 

It was one thing to experience certain things with Levi—his confidence existed then, and only then—and it was another thing entirely to have to say it aloud. 

Damn this whole conversation, honestly. 

••• 

Training could get difficult. It’s hard to maintain his titan form for long periods of time now, especially given the weather. He feels numb, for most of it, both physically and mentally—it’s all a daze when he’s back on his own two feet after it all. He’s in control while he’s in the titan, conscious at least, but when it’s over, he doesn’t remember any specifics, almost like a dream—like he’ll know exactly what’s happening as it’s happening and for a few seconds after he wakes up, but a moment after that, only bits and pieces remain. 

He’s grateful for the warmth during experiments at least, given how he can barely tell how hard he’s pushing the triggers of his gear with his numb fingers. They didn’t really have any winter coats or anything—providing heat was a job of their cloaks, blankets, and fire only, and they can’t very well take a break to huddle by a fire during simulation training. 

It’s nice to be under Hange and her squad for the moment—Sasha’s especially pleased since Hange will let them go the moment she mentions food. 

Today was more or less a break day—there was work to be done but they didn’t have to train, which was a plus. Though, for a moment Eren thought he wouldn’t have to wake up with sore joints, and it was until he saw that his job was cutting firewood that he was allowed to be happy about it. 

He and Hange had been left to it, the latter using the time to go over some speculations and get Eren’s input on a few experiment things. He was doing at least three times more work than her, and she kept standing around to explain some new theory she had about his abilities. He was happy to do some of her work for her, but she might actually succeed in talking his ear off seeing that it was probably frozen enough to fall off anyway, so he’d appreciate it if she did her share of the chopping to take up some of the talking time. 

He’s started collecting some of the completed firewood in a wheelbarrow to put it by the cabin when Hange asks, “How’s it going with Levi?” and his numb fingers betray him for the first time that day. 

The firewood falls directly on his left foot, and he leans over onto the wheelbarrow, gritting his teeth as the pain subsides. What was with people asking him about Levi lately? Was it the fact that he wasn’t here to listen in? Goodness, and Hange of all people, what reason did she even have to ask? Was it because she walked in at the end of their argument that time? For her it should have just looked like he was overstaying his welcome, at the most, and assume that was an isolated incident. It wasn’t really anything suspicious. 

“Uh, why do you ask?” he says, trying to keep the pain out of his voice so she doesn’t look up. 

Hange makes a noise of confusion, punctuated by a particularly loud smack. He glances up to find that she failed the cut, the axe only about halfway through the log, and she probably tried beating it only to fail again. “Why else would I ask? Are you two okay now?” 

It’s Eren’s turn to be confused. For anyone but Armin, they were always fine, weren’t they? If anything, his squad-mates took their leisure asking him how he survived disobeying orders at the cabin and teasing him about whether the captain had a bias towards the titan shifter, courtesy of Armin spilling everything but the one detail. “If you’re talking about what happened a couple months ago, I kept insisting on something when he’d asked me to leave. That was over then, so uhm, we're fine now.” He goes back to tossing firewood into the wheelbarrow, thinking he’s in the clear when Hange doesn’t speak for the moment. 

After a few more attempts, she finally gets that one log cut and takes a deep breath, leaning against the axe for a moment. “But Eren,” she says, wiping the fog from her glasses. He pauses his movements, looking at her. “He said he would tell you how he felt. You two aren’t together?” 

He’s glad he put down the firewood this time when his hands freeze at his sides. She asks the question so naturally, like Eren’s nerves about keeping the secret were nothing, like he hadn’t held back his emotions far too many times to count, accumulating far too many moments of questionable regret for the past couple months. “W-What, how did you…?” Did she just figure it out? Or did— “Did he tell you what was actually going on?” 

And Hange laughs, as if Eren’s not going through a crisis. “Well, if you ask him he’ll say I forced it out of him, but he caved really easily when I figured it out. He didn’t tell you I knew?” 

Eren licks his cold lips, tucking his almost icicle-like hair behind an ear. He shakes his head, saying, “No, he just… I mean, we just talked about what happened that day and then it was over.” 

This time, Hange’s eyes widen. “Over?” she questions loudly, as if she was scandalized. She clicks her tongue. “He’s so dumb, that idiot, I’m going to scold him when he gets back, Eren, don’t worry, he won’t be so-” 

Oh. “No no, Hange-san,” he interrupts. “I meant over as in the situation had subsided. The conversation went well, we’re…” Well, they weren’t really together. “...something. We’re something now. It’s good now.” 

The fist she clenched to scold him has now loosened, and she smiles. “Ah, is that so? Good, good, that’s what I like to hear,” she says, grabbing another log to chop. “Well, he can be quite annoying about things like that. Say, Eren, if he does something stupid come tell me, I’ll yell at him for you okay?” she says, like it’s the most normal thing. 

Despite himself, Eren smiles. A weight lifts off his chest, and his insides warm. “Was it you?” he asks. 

“Hm? What?” 

“When we fought, you talked him through it?” 

Hange purses her lips. “Mm. I convinced him to give you a shot,” then she grins. “So how’s that Eren? I did a good job right? Are you grateful?” 

Eren’s cheeks hurt when his expression now mirrors Hange. He nods, a laugh bubbling in his throat when she turns back to her work. He finishes loading the rest of Hange’s incomplete pile into the wheelbarrow, setting off to take it to the house, and while the frost beneath his feet crunches as he walks, warmth spreads from his chest. 

Levi had someone to talk to. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t click earlier, that the captain would tell at least Hange about this, if no one else. Somehow, he’d come to the assumption that Levi stewed in his own guilt until he gave in to his feelings. But he talked to her. She convinced him it was okay to try things for himself. She succeeded where Eren failed, and he couldn’t be more grateful—that Levi had someone he trusted to tell these kinds of things to when he didn’t know what to do, the thought relieves him to no end. Eren feels so giddy about it, he’s ready to sit down all night and indulge in Hange’s talks about her experiments just to show his appreciation. 

Levi had never really gone through his issues alone—as lonely as it was to live the life they did, Levi had his own little family too, just as Eren did. 

It’s a most pleasant realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,
> 
> it was kinda short, but its a necessary transition chapter and has some casual conversation to help eren process shit i guess, plus fluff lol
> 
> ill keep this short, there isnt much to say about the chapter since nothing is really changing lol
> 
> sorry about the, what ? three month wait ? wont be like this next time, i have most of the rest of the chapters written, and yell at me in the comments if its more than 2 months again. hope i havent disappointed or lost some of my regular commenters, im sorry yall, shit happens yknow ? ill try and be back soon.
> 
> play genshin and fall in love with albedo with me --leaf
> 
> edit: okay i feel like shit for not putting proper thoughts into this end note like usual lol, i kept you all waiting for so long and then skimp out here lmao thats so dumb, i think i just felt really guilty for being late but ive gotten my shit together and had a few good weeks there so ive been rereading the fic and i do have thoughts about this chapter.
> 
> so, i just,,,,, i love writing couple-y shit lol, you have no idea how much fucking fun i had writing eren and levi just be themselves around each other - no restrictions, no 'are we in love or are we pretending were not'. theyre alone together and you can almost feel how much they love each other. levi doesnt push him off when eren throws his weight onto him, he uses erens feet as a mat because they like each other so he can, they like each other so he makes two cups of tea instead of one. i love that.
> 
> because theyre always surrounded by other people, i tried to convey how eren is always one-on-one with someone. only with levi, only with armin, only with hange, if they wanted to talk relationship things. we have to hide this, we cant be too open, but at the same time they are very much having a sus relationship lol. i also like that he get flustered talking about levi, but when hes /with/ levi, shame goes out the fucking window lol.
> 
> also i love hange.
> 
> anyway i think thats about all i had to say, if anyone ends up reading this, hi : D


	13. Trapped in the Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice, joined hands, and the sound of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys, 
> 
> im here a month later, look at the fucking improvement. my goodness, granted its because most of this chapter was completely ready for months and months, but still, im so glad i didnt put it off,
> 
> im literally in class while i post this and i have like three midterms coming up and some virtual abroad thing over reading week ive been preparing for but yknow what fuck all that i just want my little gay boys to kiss,
> 
> hope you enjoy : D.

“Eren.” 

A flurry of snow is picked up by the wind, and Eren finally caves, pulling his hood up. “What?” 

“Where are we going?” 

“I don’t know. We’re just walking,” he shrugs, voice slightly hoarse from breathing the bitter air. 

“Walking where?” 

“Wow,” he scoffs. They’ve started up a slight hill, and it takes all the more effort to step through the thick snow. The temperature had risen and sunk over the past few days, a layer of thin ice having formed atop the softer, fluffy snow, and he leans most of his weight onto a single foot to break through it as they traverse up the hill. “The one time you don’t need to be talking and you suddenly have so many things to say.” 

Levi makes a noise of displeasure. “I’ll let go.” He makes good on his threat when Eren feels the smaller fingers loosen their hold on his hand. 

He squeezes in retaliation. “Don’t do that, it’s cold.” 

It’s Levi’s turn to scoff. “Now it’s cold?” he says. 

Eren bites his lip, holding back a chuckle despite how he should probably feel guilty—he did drag Levi out here tonight, pulling him down to the front door in spite of the captain’s complaints about the snow. “Yeah. You were right, it’s cold, so don’t let go.” 

They reach the top of the hill, looking down into the clearing ahead. 

It’s a pond. 

Well, a frozen pond, smooth and even. “Do we go down?” Levi asks, and Eren purses his lips at the almost eager tone he hears. 

“And slip onto our asses?” 

Levi turns to him then, eyebrows raising. 

“What?” Eren asks. 

“You slip. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re so sure?” 

“We non-shifters fly all the time, you know.” 

“I’m not letting go, then.” 

“What?” Levi takes the first step down into the clearing, dragging Eren behind him. 

“With that much practice you’re now responsible for making sure I don’t fall,” Eren continues. “So don’t let go.” And he fully intends to take Levi down with him if he does fall. 

They reach the ice, and Eren is significantly worse than Levi at keeping his balance. He can stay upright easily enough, so he doesn’t fall, not really, but he’s terrible at stopping, and every time he tries to take a running start to gain some semblance of speed and actually slide somewhere, he can feel himself losing balance and instinctively grips Levi’s hand tighter—he is now banned from trying that. 

It doesn’t help that each time he messes up something, he breaks into a fit of giggles—he can’t exactly help it, when he tries to push Levi to see how far he goes, the man rushes to grab his arm tight enough to bruise, and it’s hilarious. “I thought I had- I thought I had shit balance... why are you counting on me to- to keep you standing?” he says between giggles, trying his best to catch his breath. 

“Eren.” 

He barely hears the taunt, let alone the tone of warning that comes with it. 

Levi sighs, resigning to wait ‘til he calms down. “You suck,” he mutters, when Eren just about slips again. 

Eren bumps his shoulder with his own. “I’m actually doing just fine, all things considered.” 

“You’re doing awful.” Levi shifts his hand in Eren’s, intertwining their fingers and locking them together, and the laugh bubbling in Eren’s throat dies down, simmering into a small curve of the lip. He wishes his skin weren’t practically frozen, wishes he could feel the sensation of Levi’s skin on his. 

Levi runs ahead then, pulling Eren with him—he should learn from his own words, because Eren slips, hand crushing his captain’s smaller one in his grip. Levi shoots him a look. 

“I really am trying here,” Eren pouts. 

“I’m truly shocked you passed your training years, much less make the top ten.” 

Eren scoffs. “Me too.” 

Levi looks at him, incredulous. 

A moment passes. 

He turns away as he brings a fist up to cover his mouth, muffling his laugh, and it sets Eren off—he throws his head back and water pools in the corner of his eyes when he laughs, loud and deep, ignoring the bite of the cold air at his throat. The birds resting in the leafless trees by the pond fly away, and eventually, Eren has to stop moving if he wants to stay upright. 

“You’re incredible,” Levi says when he quiets down. 

Eren wipes at his eyes with the back of a hand. “In a good or bad way?” 

“Take it as you want.” 

Before Eren has a chance to speak, the wind picks up, howling as it whizzes past them, throwing Eren’s hood off. He has to throw an arm over his eyes and his cloak flutters about behind him, allowing fluffy snow to settle on his clothing as the wind dies down. He removes his arm, twisting it about so the sleeve falls back over his wrist, and blinks to clear the snow settled on his eyelashes. It’s only when Levi comes into view again at his side that he realizes— 

“You just used me as a shield,” he gleefully exclaims, mouth agape, and in spite of himself he can’t hide the grin on his face. Levi, ever the sly bastard, finally lets go of his hand and slips away with his usual grace, small smile painting his features. Eren snaps back to reality, moving to catch the man, but he just barely grabs hold of the edge of his cloak. 

Though Levi’s noticed, he still has quite a bit of momentum on the ice and continues to slide away, and it yanks Eren, who refuses to let go, forward. 

Eren gasps at the sudden force, and just before he’s about to plant his face into the ground, he reaches forward, the tips of his fingers just barely gripping Levi’s shoulder. 

Levi makes a sound of surprise when Eren hauls him backward, throwing his weight onto his shorter body with a quiet thump. He groans, but elbowing Eren from his angle has proven to be difficult. Eren’s hold traps his arms to his body, and his head is tucked against the back of Levi’s as he takes deep breaths. 

And it’s when Eren’s gotten a grip of himself that another gust of wind comes towards them, and this time, the flurry of snow hits Levi square in the face. Eren’s lungs get no rest given that he’s bellowing with laughter once more, arms tightening around his captain as he tries to catch himself. 

Levi knocks his head back into Eren’s chest with slight force, leaving it to rest there as he takes a deep breath. “You’re such a little shit,” he mutters, but Eren can hear the smile in his voice. 

“You deserved that,” he retaliates, swallowing the laughter bubbling in his throat again. With the wind having blown off Levi’s hood, his hair tickles where Eren’s throat is exposed. 

“Sure I did.” 

Eren’s hold slides down Levi’s arms, finding his hands. He grips them from behind, pulling them up along with his to rest at Levi’s chest. His gaze falls to Levi’s neck, bare and pink and ever-so inviting, and his heartbeat quickens against his permission—Levi would feel the thumps, wouldn’t he? But he can’t help himself when he leans forward, pressing his lips to the junction between his shoulder and neck, cool lips moulding around his warmer skin. He feels Levi shift against him, and his hair tickles again. Eren keeps his lips there so long they’ve gone warm. 

“Eren.” 

Eren feels the vibration of his voice against his lips, and there’s a pop when he pulls away. He takes the opportunity to press another, more chaste kiss to his head before standing. “Hm?” 

“That’s cold.” 

Eren laughs, warm breath fanning by Levi’s ear when he does. “Why do you think I did it?” he teases. He rests his head atop Levi’s. “You want to head back?” 

Levi pulls out of his hold, then, twisting out of his arms and sliding backward, tugging Eren forward with their joined hands. “No.” 

Eren grins at him, following his lead. And then he does the cheesiest thing he can think of—he lets go of one of the captain’s hands, the other rising above Levi’s head, and twirls him. 

Levi pulls away all too quickly, burying his face in his hands with such vigour it makes a slapping sound when he does. Then he turns. Then he runs. 

“Wait- what are you doing—” Eren stammers, a grin plastered on his face. “Captain,” he calls, running after him. 

“Stop running. You’re going to slip,” Levi calls back, slipping away. 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have run away!” Eren yells above the wind. 

“I wouldn’t run away if you didn’t keep doing stupid shit like that.” 

“Never! And besides, I’m doing just fine. See?” he yells after sliding right into place. He continues running when Levi comes to a stop, turning to face him now, and from this distance, Eren can spot the tiny curve of his lips, his pink cheeks, messy hair. 

“Eren, you’re going to slip.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m—” He slips. 

Almost comically, both their eyes go wide. Levi’s arms go out to catch him, but it’s Eren who encases him, a hand protecting his head as they tumble to the icy floor, landing with a thump. He stares at the dark grey sky, eyes wide and heart hammering against his ribcage, a rush making its way through his body from the shock. “I slipped.” 

Levi lifts his head, glaring at him, and Eren can’t help the giggle that escapes him. 

Levi slaps a hand over his mouth. “Are you hurt?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Eren says, voice muffled under his hand. He kisses it, and Levi pulls it away. 

“You’re the one on the floor.” 

“I’m also the one who can heal.” 

Levi sighs. “I’m fine,” he assures, sitting up on Eren’s stomach. When he’s comfortable, he pinches Eren’s waist. “You’re a damn brat. I don’t understand why I spend time with you.” 

Despite the nature of the words, Eren is beaming, a sneaky gleam in his eyes. “It’s because you love me,” he says. In a split-second Levi leans back down, forearm dangerously close to Eren’s throat. Eren barely holds back a giggle. “This feels familiar,” he says. Levi can’t not roll his eyes, and then Eren’s laughing again, as though there isn't pressure on his throat and the weight of a man on his stomach. 

Eren’s been giddy all night, Levi notes. Laughing at something, anything, no matter the uninspired or dry remark he’s been responded with, and it’s bright and deep and warm and a sound he would never grow sick of. The fleeting thought that he’d do anything to protect Eren’s happiness crosses his mind. 

Levi shifts his arms to rest at Eren’s chest. He notes the arm that’s come to rest at his waist. 

And he looks at Eren—at the unabashedly content expression staring up at him, at the creases in the corners of his eyes from how wide he’s smiling, at how his cheeks push his eyes closed just a little bit, at how his long hair fans back, exposing his expression in its entirety. “You’re so happy,” he barely whispers. 

Something flips in Eren’s stomach, and his breath gets caught in his throat. “You make me happy,” he says, just as quiet. 

“What did I say?” Levi taunts. 

“Hey,” Eren begins, brushing away the strand of hair blocking Levi’s eyes. “I’m just telling the truth,” he says. 

“Tell it less.” 

Eren’s hand slides down his cheek. It comes to rest at his jaw, thumb absentmindedly tracing the thin scar at the skin. “I wish I told it more,” he says, smile faltering when his eyes flicker down to Levi’s lips. 

Levi knows where his eyes went. 

In no uncertain terms, Levi definitely saw. 

There’s no hiding what’s going through his head, Eren thinks. 

So he goes with it. 

He throws aside any modesty—as if he had any to begin with—and openly stares at his mouth. 

He runs his thumb over Levi’s bottom lip, surprised by how smooth it is with the weather they’re having. 

But when he glances back up he finds himself pausing, because Levi’s been looking at him. 

Levi’s looking at him. 

And it takes a little while. The snow has finally seeped through both his cloak and clothing, so his back is starting to get cold. His ears have long frozen and it’s gotten a bit harder to tickle Levi’s waist with frozen fingers. He’s able to count each and every faint freckle he finds painting Levi’s cheeks. And then Levi comes to terms with what it is he’s doing and feels shy enough about it to look away. 

Eren tilts his gaze back with a pull at his jaw. “I want to kiss you,” he says, voice soft and adoring. 

Levi leans the slightest bit closer. “You could.” 

Eren smiles. “I could.” 

Levi’s eyes flicker down for the shortest moment. “I wouldn’t stop you.” 

And Eren breaks out in a laugh. “You wouldn’t have stopped me last time either,” he says, thinking back to their final day at the cabin. 

“Last time,” Levi begins, and his gaze shifts to Eren’s chest. “We didn’t have secretive dates almost twice a week.” 

Eren closes his eyes a moment too long. “We’ve been having dates, huh?” he says, cheeks warming and chest tightening and toes curling in his boots all at once. He places two fingers below Levi’s chin, gently making him look up again and with the movement, a strand of hair slips and covers an eye. Eren tucks it behind his ear, and finds that his ears have gone warm. He smiles. “All we do is talk, though.” 

“What else would you call what we do?” 

“If that’s how we’re defining it, I’m pretty sure we had dates more twice a week at the cabin.” And as soon as he says it, Levi rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright,” he yields when Levi pinches him at the chest. “I know what you mean.” 

And as Levi looks at him, the silence and stillness of the night surrounding them, his smile fades with the conversation and his eyes flicker to Levi’s mouth again. “Captain,” he says. 

“Hm.” 

He runs a thumb over his bottom lip again. “I really want to kiss you.” 

Levi’s breath hitches, and Eren has to wonder if his red cheeks are a product of the cold or not. Then, Levi shifts to lay with their chests flush this time, elbows now resting on the ice on either side of Eren’s head. He leans down enough that their noses almost touch. “Really?” 

Eren smiles at him, eyes fond. 

Levi leans closer in response. “But you won’t. We’ve already broken every barrier we tried to uphold, Eren.” The way they meet in the middle of the night, the way they talk to each other, how they look even now, alone on the ice. “A kiss won’t change shit. And yet you won’t.” 

Eren’s smile grows at the incentives, but his heart clenches at the final words. “You’re right,” he admits. 

“As always.” 

Eren beams. Levi is comfortable and affectionate and quite literally waiting to be kissed but they can’t, and only for the most nonsensical of reasons. “You’re right. You’re completely right,” Eren begins. “We could kiss, or we couldn’t. We could never meet like this again, or we could go elope tonight and be married by sunrise. And regardless, if someone saw us like this? Right now? I might as well let you kill me first to spare myself the human testing. From the outside, a kiss right now wouldn’t change anything.” 

Levi runs a hand through Eren’s hair, brushing a thumb back on forth over his scalp affectionately. “And from here?” 

“From here…” Eren sneaks his hands into the warmth under Levi’s cloak, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him to his body as he contemplates what to say. 

And it’s in hugging him this way that he understands something. Forget the captain-soldier relationship—they touch all the time, they’ve done and talked about much, much more than that of what friends would and they both know that. There’s nothing left to secret. 

He thinks about how many things would change if they ever passed innocent touches—if he could even call them innocent—and completely broke that physical barrier. 

It’s the only one left standing. 

And it’s the one barrier they should have been strict with—the one of touch and physical intimacy. It’s the only one and yet it’s the one they’ve broken the most and for the longest amount of time, from sleeping together to being naked around each other to every kind of kiss but the one. So it wouldn’t matter. A kiss of all things, wouldn’t matter. But it would change things. 

It’s—somehow, in some stupid, nonsensical way—felt like if they don’t kiss, they can still be this way; in this purgatory where they don’t hold back when they’re alone, where they know each other’s feelings but really aren’t together, in the full sense of the word. They can still say they had become friends at the cabin and nothing more. They can still meet under the guise of the night, with the moon never meeting the sun to tell the secrets it’s seen under its light. 

Somehow, it feels that way. 

And so they don’t kiss. 

And so Eren suspects they’ll reach a breaking point—at some point, their desires will get the best of them, and something will go wrong. At some point, they will want for more, and they will no longer have the energy to deny it. 

At some point, Eren suspects something will go wrong, and he can only hope that when it does, it’s not him who has to fight himself, for he knows he won’t have the will nor power to fight it, and he knows that if he pushes, Levi will follow. 

“I won’t for the same reason you won’t. I’m being a coward,” he finally answers. 

Levi squints his eyes the slightest bit, almost amused. “I thought you wanted to tell the truth more,” he says. 

“Right,” Eren nods, slightly puzzled. 

“You should detail who the bigger coward is.” 

Smiling, Eren almost rolls his eyes. “Mm. You are. Definitely.” 

“Brat.” 

And Eren laughs. “I’m kidding,” he says, lightly knocking Levi’s chin with a fist. “You might feel that way but I really don’t see it like that.” 

“How do you see it?” 

“I see it like…” he begins, thumbing circles into Levi’s waist. “… like the way you love me is different from the way I love you.” 

Levi finally pulls away, resting his arms on Eren’s chest. “Why do you say such unpleasant things so carelessly?” 

“What do you mean unpleasant?” Eren questions, mocking offense. 

Levi rolls his eyes. “I mean it makes me want to leave,” he says finally, sitting up. 

“Already?” Eren pouts, trying not to break out in laughter. 

“Eren, your back is frozen. Get up. Before it makes you get sick.” 

Unable to hold back, Eren giggles, then obediently sits up but disobediently decides to tease. “Are you sure it’s unpleasant? Or maybe your ears aren’t pink from the cold.” 

And Levi pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eren and at a loss for words. “You’re incredible.” 

“In a good or bad way?” 

“Bad.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and it sends Eren into a fit of laughter. “Get off the ice on your own,” he calls as he runs off. He shakes his head at the absurdity of the man behind him, smiling at the chaos. 

Eren makes a fuss, of course, playfully angry at Levi for watching from the edge, arms crossed and feet planted, as Eren makes his painstakingly slow way over. Levi even taunted him, telling him to get on his ass and slide over, as if Eren didn’t have the pride to stay on his feet. 

He’d be right, of course, thinking that Eren had no shame, because he doesn’t—not around Levi. But it’s this particular time, while Levi waits in the freezing temperatures, that Eren has too much pride. 

The whole walk back to the house, Eren thinks it’s a good idea to tease Levi in return for being abandoned, and eventually he attempts to pinch Eren into shutting his mouth, which only leads to Eren running from him and to the safety of the house. 

Eren crashes through the door first, falling with his back to the wall and he slides down it, curling into himself as he laughs his lungs out of his throat. Levi comes in after him, throwing a hand over Eren’s mouth. “Shut up, someone could be awake,” he whispers hurriedly. His tone only makes Eren laugh harder and he has to clutch his aching sides. “Eren,” he warns. 

Eren catches himself just for a moment. “Who would be awake now, though?” he whispers, silent giggles bubbling up, still. 

“If we’re awake at this hour, someone else could be,” Levi responds. With his boots off, he pads off through the kitchen with Eren tailing him, just barely keeping silent. 

Eren’s really trying his best. He is. But then there’s a thump and the captain freezes. 

Bang. 

Bang. 

Bang. 

Three candles hit the ground in three distinctive, loud bumps. 

Levi sighs, and Eren falls to the ground, head in his knees. 

And this situation of theirs is Levi’s burden, but he’s blaming Eren anyway. “You bastard,” he whispers, pulling the laughing mess up by the hood. “This is your fault, get up, let’s go.” He yanks Eren up off the floor, practically dragging the near-hysterical man up the stairs and to his room, thankfully located at the end of the hall and furthest from the rest of the squads’ rooms. 

In the safety of Levi’s room, Eren quite literally falls into his bed and crushes a pillow to his chest, laughing to his hearts’ content into it while Levi feels around the desk for his lamp. As he searches, he hears the foolishness behind him slowly quiet as Eren takes noticeably deep breaths to calm himself down. 

By the time he’s found his lamp and lit it, Eren’s silent. He turns to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes red and puffy and damn huge smile plastered on his lips. 

“You’re insane.” 

“You were being all serious about staying quiet and then you dropped the candles,” Eren practically whines, pout written all over his face. “I couldn’t help it.” 

“You laughed that much.” 

“It was funny.” 

Levi stares at him in disbelief, at a loss for words. “You’re going to get us caught one day,” he says, clicking his tongue. 

“Maybe if you—” Eren begins, a giggle bubbling over. “—if you didn’t drop the candles—" 

“Eren.” 

“Wh…what?” Eren barely responds. 

“Don’t start laughing again.” 

“What? What will you do if I start laughing again? Tell me,” Eren beckons with a dangerous amount of confidence he shouldn’t possess at the moment. 

“I’m sleeping with you tonight.” 

All amusement leaves Eren’s expression. His eyes widen. “What?” 

“I want to stay in your room.” 

“You want to sleep with me?” 

“Yes,” he says as he takes a step closer to Eren, leaning down to look at him. He places a fist on Eren’s cheek, thumb brushing under his eye where it’s gone red from tears. “I have to get some things first, so make sure your room is clean before I get there. And dry your hair.” 

In shock, Eren slowly nods at him. At this, Levi pulls the pillow from his clutches, throwing it back on the bed. He takes Eren’s hand then, pulling him up and leading him to the door. “Don’t chicken out, coward,” he says, leaning on the doorframe. 

Eren shakes his head. “If anyone backs out of this it’ll be the bigger coward, not me.”. 

Levi pushes at his chest, playfully hitting it multiple times. “Go. Hurry up,” he says, enunciating each with a hit. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you,” Eren yields. 

He presses a quick kiss to Levi’s forehead before he turns, smiling at the thought of his captain’s reddened ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so like,
> 
> yea ???? its way too like, cute or something idk, i tried to keep it minimal but theyve developed a lot together so things like this were inevitable i think. i really love the idea that they just fuck off in the middle of the night together for no reason at all other than: they can. [also shits gonna get worse soon right so we need some semblance of peace in the middle lol, its kind of why i used the word 'trapped' in the title yknow ? like this contentment is something thats gripped them and shielded them from their actual dangerous situation, made them lose focus, idk, i liked that]
> 
> i really tried to emphasize how comfortable they are with each other now because, cmon, its been thirteen chapters and like months in show time, i think this dynamic is well earned lmao. theyre both reaching this point of irresistibility too, where they cant seem to justify holding back emotions now that theyve reached this point of comfort with each other, so like tensions are rising i guess lol.
> 
> idk its like levis learned to put up with erens shenanigans and erens very used to the cut-dry, bitter personality levi has and theyre just,,,,, really good together
> 
> anyway this chapter was both really fun for me to write and really hard, its just difficult to put them in a situation that weve literally never seen before: content and smitten, lol. levi is difficult, but at the same time we know he would get really flustered in front of someone he likes, so thats what im operating off of, and eren is really hard to fluster so hes bold and does whatever he feels like too. its weird, idk, because these dynamics dont exist at all in canon i have a lot of freedom to build their personalities in this particular type of situation, but i also really wanted to stay true to their characters, so i hope that worked at least lol
> 
> anyway yea the episodes are kinda stressing me out and i dont want the survey corps to be pissed at eren because no thank u but ofc they are and like hhhhhHHHH so i felt like i wanted to post something cute lol anyway this got really long
> 
> shuffle a deck of cards --leaf
> 
> ps if you see the previous chapter title change no you didnt


End file.
